The Founding of Pigwarts II: Cooking Chaos
by Heptagon
Summary: When the recipe for chaos is ready, someone should go ahead and cook it. With the help of boredom, alcohol, and a victim.. erm.. accomplice, Ginny Weasley, soon to be Potter, is just the right person. Third part up: Chaos Is Served
1. Yet Another Party

**Author's Note: **Here it is, people - what you all have been waiting for. The second part of the Pigwarts Trilogy - "Cooking Chaos".

Those who haven't, I suggest you read the first part first - "The Founding of Pigwarts I: Recipe For Chaos". :)

**_Enjoy! _  
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**Disclaimer**: Take a wild, wild guess. And if you guessed that _Harry Potter _belongs to me, then you were wrong. **  
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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 1: Yet Another Party**_

Ginny was officially bored. She really should have believed Harry when he said that it would be a stupid pointless event. But she had been way too curious not to go – after all, it didn't happen every day that they received an invitation to Malfoy Manor. In fact, it never happened, and that's why Ginny had been rather surprised reading the card which informed that they were welcomed to the Birthday Party of Draco Malfoy. Although 'rather surprised' was the wrong phrase here. Shocked to the core was much better.

Harry actually had an explanation for this, and now she was beginning to think that he had been right. He had informed her that Malfoy had probably just told his secretary to invite everyone important.

And even Malfoy had to admit that Harry Potter was important.

But the party was boring. Boring like hell. Poor guy, someone should really teach him how to throw a party. Ginny could give him a few tips on that. Loud music, a dancing floor with neon lights, and snacks like crisps, mini sandwiches and fruit would have been a great improvement to the party. Also spiked punch. And if you wanted it be extra fun, and were ready to throw your pride and caution to the wind, you should let Fred and George do the spiking.

Dancing on the tables or exhibiting red and gold fur would have really done some good to the party. She really should have visited her darling brothers before coming here.

Ginny looked at all the important high-class people around her having their important high-class talks which mostly consisted about polite inquiries about each other's life and work, and then pretending to find it all very interesting, at the same time wondering how exactly they could use this person for their private profit, and imagined them dancing on the tables covered in red and gold fur.

Perhaps she could slip away for a while and drop in to Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Although it wouldn't be of much help since there was no punch here to spike. Just way too many bottles of wine and champagne for her to enchant them all.

Well, she had to admit that dancing was not completely missing from here, and if she had managed to convince Harry into coming – his refusal had been so categorical that for the first time none of her pleas or threats had helped – they might be having a lot better time on the dancing floor.

But as it was, Harry was not here, and she had given up on that activity after Crabbe had asked her for three times, making a mental note to scream out aloud should he ask her again. Which would make the party probably much more entertaining.

Ginny considered whether she should scream out anyway, just to make things a bit less dull, but in the end decided against it, and instead went on an expedition.

The Malfoy Manor was huge. She wondered if she would get lost and roam around for days until she found the way out, or someone else found her.

Well, she could always jump out of a window if needed.

Walking down the hallway and humming to herself, ignoring all the contemptuous looks and scathing remarks the portraits were throwing at her, Ginny opened the doors at random, peeking into the rooms and doing general snooping in Malfoy's personal possessions.

The rooms were all pretty but empty and unused, and she frowned at such a waste. This house should be full of people, full of laughter, and clatter, and children. What a waste to keep it all empty like this.

Shaking her head she left the room and continued her little journey.

The door was locked. It was a massive door, high and made of ebony, with intricate silver patterns and the doorknob the form of a snake. Figures.

"Alohomora," she tried again, but it didn't work. Which meant that behind this door there was something valuable that needed to be protected from prying eyes. Which meant that there was something interesting, if not also dangerous inside. Which meant she had to get the door open.

Ginny now realized how beneficial spending time with Hermione can be. A few complicated movements of wand and muttered incantations later, the door swung open before her, revealing the room behind it.

Once inside she realized immediately that this was not alike any other room she had seen here. It wasn't perhaps as pretty as the others, instead choosing to have comfortable and cozy atmosphere. The fire in the hearth burst into life upon her entering, shining its golden light to two high bookshelves, a large desk by the window, and a couple of armchairs and a sofa in front of the fireplace.

Taking in all the details, the parchment, and quills and half a glass of liquor, she came to the conclusion of this being Malfoy's study.

Which meant she could find something interesting here.

That in mind, Ginny began with some more specific snooping.

The files were boring. All about numbers, and profit, and expenses, and the like. The drawers contained information about some Ministry officials, though nothing illegal, just details about their jobs, family and past.

Some of this was actually pretty interesting. For example, she would have never guessed that the prim and grave man who worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and had once threatened to throw her out of the building for laughing too loud, had a family of eleven children and had been a famous step-dancer in his youth.

Yet what wasn't there were dirty secrets about Malfoy himself. Perhaps not to blackmail him, Ginny thought, but to point at him and laugh devilishly.

She left the table alone, and went to torture the bookshelves.

There were the usual books, the expected ones, about Dark Arts and Items. Some Family Chronicles, History books, Collections of Spells and Potions, several about Arithmancy, some of Divination, Works of William Shakespeare, Introduction To Muggle Science, more Family Chronicles, How To Run A Successful Business, Evil Villainy For Dummies...

Wait a second.

Wait a bloody second.

"Introduction To Muggle Science?" Ginny asked herself, going back to the book and giving it a suspicious glare. "Why in Merlin does Malfoy have a book about Muggle science?"

But as she was alone, there was no one to answer her question.

Puzzled, she pulled the book from the shelf, and leafed through it absentmindedly. Muggle science didn't really fascinate her so much.

Suddenly something small and golden fell to the floor. Ginny picked it up and realized it was a key.

A sly grin slowly spread onto her face.

"Where's a key, there is a keyhole as well."

She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the small golden object.

"_Näita lukuauku_," she told, and the same book about Muggle science glowed red on the table where she had placed it.

"So there's something about the book," she concluded and started examining it with growing anticipation. She looked at it, touched its cover with the tip of her wand, and skimmed it through again. And again. And again.

On her fourth try when she was getting a bit bored already, she finally discovered something. And not just anything. It was a drawing about something that faintly reminded her of a keyhole. The text under it said it was a light bulb. Ginny could recall father once mentioning something like that. She knew it was connected with eckeltricity, and perhaps with pudding as well, though she was not 100 percent sure of it.

But it looked like a keyhole, and she got a key, and it didn't really hurt to try. So she took the key, stabbed it against the paper and turned.

The result was immediate. The book in her hands began to change – it got a bit smaller and lighter, the text vanished, the white Muggle paper turned into yellowish parchment and the dark grey cover turned crimson.

Ginny turned the changed book around in her hands. Golden letters on its spine read the word 'Journal'.

With a grin so wicked that usually made people cover, she opened the book again, and started reading.

_It's Friday, August the 12th, the Year of Voldemort's Destruction. Here, into the ruins of Hogwarts have gathered Harry 'The Hero' Potter, Ron 'The Redhair' Weasley, Hermione 'The Bookworm' Granger and Draco 'The Ferret' Malfoy. And our conversation tonight will be as follows._

Ginny raised an eyebrow. Sure she had heard all about the Trio's private drinking party from Harry and Ron, she had even been mad at them for not being invited. But now it seemed that they had forgotten to mention one tiny detail about it.

More excited than ever, she shut the study door, arranged herself into a comfortable position on the sofa in front of the fire, and continued to read.

This party had turned out a lot better than she could have ever expected.

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_Näita lukuauku _- Show the keyhole 

"Evil Villainly For Dummies" is a great fanfic by _HermionesRevenge_.

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	2. Whirlpool

**A/N: **I like this chapter. It gives me such a pleasant mental image. :P

**_Thanks to all who read & reviewed!_**

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**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is not mine and I'm not going to bawl my eyes out for that. Because I like writing fanfiction.

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 2: Whirlpool**_

There weren't many things in the whole wide world that had the power to render Ginny Weasley speechless. The invitation to Malfoy's Birthday Party was one of those few. The little crimson book in her hands was another.

She had finished reading it some time ago already – now the journal was lying closed in her lap, her astonished gaze moving from it into the flames and back again.

Wow. That was her first thought.

Well I'll be damned. That was the second.

Is Harry gay? won the third place. She dearly hoped he wasn't because then she would have to cancel their wedding, and so many preparations had already been done. Although, if he did have the hots for Ron then they only had to replace the name Ginerva with Ronald (in some places Molly with Bilius as well), and everything would be all right again. Except that the groom and the... erm... groom would be dead before the big day because she was simply going to KILL THEM.

Of course, the other option was that they had just been drunk, and done some stupid things. Not that they actually needed to be drunk to act stupid, for her dearest brother and beloved fiance were perfectly capable of behaving like idiots while completely sober.

Ginny waged her possibilities. The book did not say their kiss was passionate, as it did about other kisses, between other people. And Ron and Harry had never given any hint of their irresistible wish to snog each other senseless. So perhaps the best explanation was the right one as well.

But still, why hadn't they said anything about it? Or at least avoided each other like hell? She recalled what they had spoken about that night in the ruins of Hogwarts – 'I can't give you all the details, Ginny, because to be honest, I hardly remember a thing that happened after we got there. Except for Ron's singing, that is impossible to forget, however hard one might try.' She had to agree with Harry on that, Ron's singing was indeed the subject for nightmares.

So they didn't remember. They hadn't mentioned Malfoy or anything that happened simply because they were too drunk to remember.

Poor Hermione. Doing all those incredibly hot and passionate and sexy things with Malfoy and not having any memories of it to keep her warm on long cold winter nights.

Well, she would have to help her with that. If not to get those memories back (because Hermione might not believe her should she just stick this book under her nose), then make some new, even better ones.

And so, in Draco Malfoy's office, the birthplace of many devilish plans, another one was born.

---

When Ginny left the office, a copy of the journal was safely in her pocket. She locked the doors behind her, and after a few dead ends and lots of paintings trying to kill her with their glares, made it back to the party.

Which was still boring. As hell. Or even worse.

She looked around in search of a victim... erm... an accomplice. Evil schemes were so much more fun if you could share all the finger pointing and evil laughter with someone.

Of course, finding a suitable victim... erm... accomplice from this place was like founding a needle from Vesuvius. But sometimes, miracles do happen.

In this case, it came in the shape of a girl sitting alone by the drinks and drowning one glass of wine after another. She had messy ebony hair with brilliant green highlights, eyes too jade to be natural, and robes that looked like shredded sheets of white and emerald. With that appearance she stood out from the rest of the people so greatly that Ginny wondered how she hadn't noticed her before.

With a smirk worthy of a Slytherin, she made her way towards the other girl, recognizing the look of utter boredom on her face. Reaching her, Ginny grabbed herself a glass of wine and took a sip, eyeing her future victim... erm... accomplice carefully.

"Enjoying the party?" she asked after a moment.

The girl gave her a sharp glare.

"I have never been to a party quite this..."

She paused for a second, contemplating her next words. But there was something about Ginny that made her tell the truth.

"Boring before. Without all this alcohol," she toasted with her glass. "I'd be probably dead of boredom by now."

"I totally completely wholly agree with you," Ginny smirked. "This party sucks, big time."

"This is the last time I'm letting Draco have his secretary organize the party," the brunette shook her head. "I'll chain him to a dungeon wall if I have to."

"I like the way you think."

"Glad to find someone agreeing with me."

They stood a moment in silence, during which Ginny tried to figure out why the other girl seemed so familiar and where she had seen her before.

"I'm Ginny," she said at last. "Ginny Weasley."

"Not for long, I've heard," the girl grinned. "I'm Daphne Greengrass."

"Oh. Didn't you go to Hogwarts with us?"

"Indeed," Daphne nodded, exchanging her empty glass for a full one. "Slytherin, and proud of it."

"Gryffindor, and proud of it as well. Even though some have accused me of having Slytherin tendencies."

Daphne nodded once again, and looked around in the room.

"Care to lighten this party up a bit, Gryffindor?"

"I'm in, Slytherin."

---

"More wine, Ginny?"

"Thanks. Nice spell, Daphne."

"I've always liked pool parties."

The two girls where presently perching on top of a chandelier, a few bottles to keep them company, and peering down to what had been the floor before, but now, after a nifty spell from the Slytherin, had been turned into a large pool.

A large pool full of confused people, who had no idea how they had suddenly ended up in shoulder-deep water, and were now trying to get out, climbing onto a few tables, which were also sinking rapidly.

"Oh, look!" Ginny exclaimed and pointed. "Mrs. Olbin's dress is dissolving in water!"

"Poor Old Bint," Daphne sniggered. "Everyone's looking at her with disgust."

"Serves her right, Mrs. I-have-always-known-red-hair-means-savageness."

"Now did she?" Daphne raised a brow, and fumbled with her wand, miraculously succeeding in not dropping it.

A second later the overall noise and panic was subdued by a bloodcurdling scream as Mrs. Old Bint's whole body was suddenly covered in red fur, followed by more than a couple of sighs of relief because now she was not that horrible of a sight any more.

"I like you, Slytherin," Ginny said in awe.

"Not so bad yourself, Gryffindor. Now what?"

"How about a whirlpool?"

There was something extremely thrilling and liberating about watching all the important and high-class society people crying out in hysteria, trying to climb onto each other's shoulders, pushing their allies and enemies alike under the water, and swirling around and around and around in the current. All wet, robes and hair ruined, make-up running down their faces, looking more or less like drown rats.

Funny how none of them had yet managed to draw their wand and cast a helping spell, even though any of the simpler useful spells would have given them a large rubber duck, something which both Ginny and Daphne considered rather useful and helping in the situation.

"Disco lights!" Ginny suggested, and did just that, bathing the room into flashing colours of neon pink and green.

"Not bad," Daphne admitted and finished off her bottle of wine.

"You know," Ginny said a good five minutes of screaming and splashing later. "This party has most definitely improved."

"Draco should be thankful to us."

"Damn right he should."

"Nice working with you, Gryffindor. My opinion of the lion-people went up a couple of notches solely thanks to you."

"I'm honoured."

"You should be. Want to meet up some other time and cause more trouble?"

"Actually," Ginny said slowly. "I do have one plan in the making."

"Much trouble?" Daphne inquired curiously.

"Total chaos."

"I'm intrigued," the brunette smirked.

"Good."

"So, tell me more."

"First promise not to tell anyone anything about this. Especially Malfoy."

"Slytherin's honour," Daphne raised a hand in vow. Ginny pointed her wand at her newfound friend.

"_Lehmavanne._"

"What did you do?" Daphne queried, not sounding one bit upset.

"If you break the promise, you will be turned into a cow," Ginny explained.

"Cool spell. Mooooo! for that. Now tell me about the plan."

"Well," Ginny began. "It all happened when I got bored to death of this party and decided to leave. Somehow, however, I must have missed the front door and instead ended up lost in some long deserted hallway. So of course I tried nothing else but find my way out, but instead happened to stumble upon Malfoy's private office."

"Yeah," Daphne nodded. "That has happened to me as well. Although, each time I have accidentally stumbled upon Draco's study, the door to it has been locked."

"Yes, well. But I also just happened to have my wand in my hand, and it was accidentally pointed towards the door, and I was just mumbling to myself a bit," she explained with a most innocent and angelic tone, which she often used with Molly to blame whatever she had done on Fred and George.

"Every time I have happened to have my wand accidentally pointed in that direction, and I mumble Alohomora to myself for no specific reason, nothing interesting has happened."

"Next time, try _Avane juba, sa kuradima uks_," Ginny advised.

"I'll remember that. So, in search of the front door, you got lost in this huge house, and accidentally stumbled into Draco's study. Once there, I'm sure you looked around – just to make sure it's not simply the vestibule leading outside, of course."

"Of course," Ginny agreed. "So I looked around for a bit in search of the exit. When I found none, I got this idea that perhaps the exit is secret, and I have to pull or push something to find it."

"And did you?"

"No. But I found out that Mr. Thompson used to be a famous tap-dancer in his youth."

"Really? I heard his wife was a clown at one point."

"Hmm, it didn't say that there. But I found something else as well."

"What?" Daphne asked, unable to hide her utmost curiosity.

"A journal."

"Wicked!"

"DAPHNE DOLCETTA GREENGRASS! Why is there a pool in my ballroom???"

"Dolcetta?" Ginny frowned.

"Blame my mother. That was what she said when I was born – father thought it was my name, but actually she just wanted some cake."

"DOLLY!!!"

"I hate it when he calls me that. And why by the hairclips of Morgana does he think it was my doing?"

"Morgana didn't wear hairclips," Draco growled, leaning onto the railing of the colonnade that circled the room at the same height as the chandeliers happened to be; which meant an angry ferret was staring right into their eyes. "And who else in this room is sitting up in a chandelier?"

"All women wear hairclips," Daphne argued. "And where does it say that I am not allowed to sit up in a chandelier?"

Draco gave her an evil stare for a couple of more minutes, then sighed and gave up, setting off to take down all the spells, muttering something along the lines of 'those darned drunk Gryffindors again'.

Ginny, who knew perfectly well what he was hinting to, smirked.

"I can't see why he is so upset," Daphne wondered. "After all, no one is going to forget **this** party any time soon."

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**A/N: **Ooh, don't you just love pool parties? And disco lights? ;) 

_Avane juba, sa kuradima uks _ - Open up already, you damn door

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	3. How To Found A School

**A/N:** Next chappie. Go read to find out what pink giraffes and Bellatrix Lestrange have in common. :)

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**Disclaimer: **If I were J. K. Rowling writing fanfiction under cover, I would not reveal my true identity, would I? Instead I would say something like _Harry Potter _is not mine. _Harry Potter _is not mine. But you never know for sure whether I am Rowling under cover or not. Although I'm not. Or perhaps I'm just saying this. :P

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

**_Chapter 3: How To Found A School_**

"I still can't see why he must be so upset about this," Daphne complained to Ginny one week later when they were meeting in a little coffee shop in Diagon Alley.

"He wanted publicity – he got publicity!" the Slytherin exclaimed. Her hair was just as green and messy as at the party, but her eyes were silver this time, and she had chosen to wear something a bit more comfortable that looked amazingly similar to a potato sack. She was currently in the middle of her rant about Draco still being mad at her for some reason.

"He got publicity all right," Ginny nodded. The _Daily Prophet _had done a fabulous cover story of Malfoy's birthday party, with exclusive photos and interviews. The disco lights would have looked better in colour but the whirlpool was fantastic even in black and white. Harry had been most regretful about not going.

Of course, Draco might have resented the accusation of trying to murder half the Ministry, or perhaps the fact that more than one person had sued him for causing physical and emotional harm, and demanded large sums of money in exchange for their public humiliation.

"If he chooses never to speak to me again, it will be his loss!"

Ginny, who had spent the last hour listening to her new friend raving and ranting about Malfoy, had got a bit tired of this, and tried to change the subject.

"What do you think about it?" she nodded towards the crimson book on the table. She had made an extra copy of it for Daphne and given it to her before they had parted seven days ago.

"I think… that Draco is being silly!"

"I meant the journal."

"Oh, that," the Slytherin grinned. "That was a good read, have to tell you that. Really, alcohol is one's best friend. It was high time for Draco to get loosened up, and do something he really wanted for a change, instead of doing what everyone expects of him. You know, you probably would never guess it, but the poor boy is rather insecure about himself. The war and everything, and the choice he made. It's not that he is regretting it, but he could really use someone to be there for him and tell him that everything is going to be all right."

"He has you."

"He had me," Daphne growled. "And he will have me again once he comes around. But that's not the same. Because we are on the same broom, Draco and I. Both Slytherins, both suspected of being evil, both trying to live in the world that is reluctant to accept us. I can manage because I've never cared too much of people's opinion of me, but Draco is different. He wants to be respected."

"And he will," Ginny reassured her troubled friend. "Once we have done what we plan to do, he will have both respect and love."

"Really?" Daphne brightened up. "I thought we would be cooking chaos?"

"We will. But chaos is a very good thing, you know."

"I know," she grinned.

"So, what do you think of the book?" Ginny asked again, happy to see the other girl smiling again, and not listing all the wonderful things Draco was going to miss out on if he chose never to speak to her again. (#26: I can turn his slippers warm and fuzzy. Even though I overdid it once and transfigured them to actual bunnies who then bit at his toes, but that only happened once. OK, maybe twice, but the second time might have been intentional. But it was his fault getting on my nerves with his incessant rant about how someone in Hogwarts must have paid off the house-elves to put lime into his apple-pie. He's allergic to limes, you know, and that rash did look a bit disgusting and painful, but it's not like it killed him or anything. That was Marcus, by the way, they had a little disagreement about Quidditch, but I got him later, and that was for both of us.)

"Beside the Draco issue," she added quickly as a familiar gleam came to Daphne's eyes and she opened her mouth.

She snapped it close on that, thought for a bit, and gave her a sympathetic look then.

"I'm sorry about your fiance. But it's better to find out before the wedding than walk in on him in the throes of passion with your own sibling."

Ginny glared angrily at her for a moment until she finally caught on to the meaning. Then, she continued glaring angrily at her.

"Harry is not gay," she pressed through her clenched teeth at last.

"Yeah. And Draco does not own a pink stuffed giraffe."

"Harry is not… Draco has a pink stuffed giraffe?"

"Yep," Daphne nodded happily.

"Why does he have… why would anybody have a pink stuffed giraffe?"

"It was a present from his aunt. He really loves it. Cuddles with it at night and everything. Well, at least he used to. A couple of years ago."

Ginny made a quick calculation.

"Bellatrix Lestrange gave Draco a pink stuffed giraffe?" Well, the woman was certainly mad, and now dead, too, but at that time she had been just mad. Still, not mad in the pink-stuffed-giraffes kind of way. Definitely not. No, Bellatrix Lestrange and pink stuffed giraffes did not mix.

"His other aunt. The outcast. Andromeda something."

Ginny re-calculated.

"Andromeda Tonks gave Draco a pink stuffed giraffe? And he kept it? And he likes it? And he CUDDLES with it?"

Daphne sniggered.

"I guess at first he simply kept it to annoy his parents. But then he must have grown to like it. And now, it's something that reminds him of one of the few of his surviving relatives. And no, he probably doesn't cuddle with it anymore, but then again, how would I know? He keeps his bedroom locked from me since that day he caught me snooping through his underwear drawer and finding a collection of his poems from there."

Ginny fell down to the chair in shock. Well, she would have fallen down to the chair in shock if she hadn't been sitting already; yet, this situation seemed to require a dramatic falling to the chair, so she heaved herself up to shaky legs and fell dramatically back to the chair.

Except that she fell past the chair, and rather comically.

"Malfoy? Poetry?" Ginny commented incredulously once she had made it back to her chair, and shooed off a couple of rather handsome men who had been quick in offering their assistance; Daphne winked at them.

"Let me quote," Daphne said with mock seriousness. "And the morning sun rises red from the mountains, and sends her light over the sleeping landscape. Birds sing, and animals wake and start another glorious day. Harry Potter dies. The end."

"He's not much fond of Harry, is he?" Ginny remarked with a quite genuine smile. This was something normal, for a change. Then again… "Or should I be worried about Malfoy writing poems of Harry?"

"You want to set them up?"

"Ewww!" Ginny made a disgusted face. "Harry with Ron is already ewww enough. But Harry with Malfoy is EWWW!"

"I agree," Daphne chuckled. "Besides, Draco seemed to be interested in someone completely else."

"Yes," Ginny nodded vigorously. "And that brings us back to our chaos making."

"You want to set up Draco and Hermione? That's a piece of cherry pie."

"Not only." Ginny leaned closer to the other girl and lowered her voice into a conspiratorial whisper.

"What do you know about founding a school?"

Daphne got it almost immediately, and Ginny was a bit disappointed about that – she would have loved a long dramatic pause full of confusion from the Slytherin and knowing smirks from herself. But the dramatic effects didn't seem to favour her this fine day.

"I think it would have suited us better to have Draco still in speaking terms with us, or at least with me, if we want to found it in his Manor."

Ginny now smirked the smirk she hadn't managed before, and paused for a long dramatic moment.

'_May there always be sunshine, May there always be blue skies, May there always be mummy, May there always be me!'_ was heard from outside.

Ginny cut the dramatic pause off quickly before it got the chance to become any worse.

"We, my snaky friend, are not going to need Malfoy's permission. What's more, we don't need and don't want him to have any knowledge of our plans whatsoever."

She was ready this time when Daphne got it way too quick for a normal person to comprehend. Then again, no normal person would dare call Daphne normal.

"You want us to found a school in Draco's house without him being aware of it?"

"Bingo!"

"You do realize that we have to tell him one day, do you? I mean, he might notice a bunch of kids running around his house. Of course, we can chain him to a dungeon wall then…"

"What's the thing with you chaining Malfoy to a dungeon wall?" Ginny couldn't help asking.

"I just have a hunch that chains suit him. Besides, he did it to me once. Sure, we were both five years old, but that doesn't excuse his evil, evil deed – putting me in chains and placing a plate of chocolate-chip cookies just out of my reach!"

Ginny gasped.

"I know. That was incredibly cruel. Of course, I did push him into the river for that later on, but I will not rest in peace before I have him cookie-tortured."

It took the redhead a moment to get her mind off cookies and onto what they had been discussing before.

"We tell him. Eventually."

"Who else are we not going to tell about this?" Daphne wondered.

"Harry, Ron and Hermione. And everyone else who does not need to know."

"So you want us to found this school, Pigwarts, into Malfoy Manor, in total secrecy?"

"That's the plan."

"It's a great plan!"

"I know."

Grin.

Another grin.

Smirk.

Another smirk.

Evil plotting look.

Another evil plotting look.

'_Oh My Gosh! That colour of nail polish looks perfect on you!' _sounding from another table.

"So, do you know how to found a school?"

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	4. How To ACTUALLY Found A School

**Disclaimer: **Everything you can recognize from _Harry Potter _belongs to J. K. Rowling. :)

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 4: How To ACTUALLY Found A School**_

"No?" Daphne ventured after quarter of an hour had passed while staring at the journal on the table, looking around in the café, gazing out of the window at people hurrying past them, once in a while making an utterly thoughtful face, and listening to the two girls at another table discussing whether orange would ever be the new black and if it was appropriate to wear sea green eye shadow with teal nail polish.

"Let's start at the beginning," Ginny suggested. "Perhaps it helps."

"In the beginning… there was an egg. After that, the chicken was born. Then came Crabbe and ate it. The end."

"Please tell me it's not another one of Draco's poems?"

"Nope. There's no Harry Potter dying there. You can always tell by that."

"So," Ginny said, and paused, trying to figure out what she should say next. "So, we have the name."

"That we do. Pigwarts. It sounds rather cool, me thinks."

"So we have the name. Do we have to do something with it?"

"Of course we have to! We have to make it famous! In secret, of course. Erm… Perhaps later. But we need the school's logo – with its name, and the names and colours and animals of the houses. We need a big name plate to hang above the front door in the future."

"We need to register the school within Ministry," Ginny added.

"I'll do it!" Daphne offered at once.

"You have good connections there? I have some, too, actually."

"No, no, I'll manage. You could try to design the logo, and the name plate, if you want to."

"Sure."

"Great."

"Wonderful."

"Erm… should we go and do that, or discuss some more?"

"Let's discuss. This chocolate cake is divine. I want another piece."

"So, what else?" Ginny asked after some more staring around, eating chocolate cake, and realizing that it was really possible to discuss the just right colour of purple lip gloss for fifteen minutes.

Daphne leafed through the journal for any clues or helpful tips.

"Teachers!" she exclaimed happily after a while.

"Oh yes," Ginny grinned. "Well, we already have two. Who else do we need to convince?"

"Besides Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco…"

"I'll manage the Trio, you take Why-Is-There-A-Whirlpool-In-My-Ballroom Boy."

"Herbology for Neville…"

"That'll be easy. He's more or less in love with his plants. He sometimes even sleeps in his greenhouse to take care of some more fragile or lonely species. He tells them stories, too."

"Well, he's right," Daphne agreed. "Plants are good conversationalists. They really listen. And they won't yell at you when you just want to lighten things up a bit and bring some fun to the house."

Ginny rolled her eyes, even though there were times she wished she could turn Ron into a radish. Of course, there was this time she had 'accidentally' turned Ron into a cactus, but that plan backfired, since the cactus had fallen rather painfully onto her foot; later Ron had the nerve to hint that it had hurt him more, which made her turn his fork into another cactus and prove him wrong. And if Ron hadn't been so busy screaming at the top of his lungs, he might have been able to save the twins from their undeserved punishment. (Not that any punishment Fred & George got was undeserved, sometimes they just got punished for things they hadn't done instead of the things they had done).

"Susan Bones turned Colin Creevey into a squirrel?" Daphne asked with sparkling eyes and half-happy half-sad smile – happy to hear more about, sad for not being there personally to witness something so great.

"Yeah," Ginny said with a faraway smile, remembering that wonderful incident. "We had a lot of fun with him. He was still trying to take a picture in his squirrel form, and then Susan tried to throw him out of the window but he managed to escape, and we all chased him through the school. We even had a competition of sorts, five Galleons and infinite fame to whoever caught him first. Oh, all the traps we made, trying to lure him in with nuts and sweets, but in the end it was me and Harry who managed to catch him, promising him a picture of them together. I still have that photo, you know – Harry is so cute with a squirrel on his shoulder. Perhaps he should wear one on regular bases – alive, of course. Hmm, I wonder, would Colin accept the job? He kind of liked it then – said it was the best moment in his life, and drove Susan crazy afterwards with all the flowers and cards and candy to express his eternal gratitude."

"Those were times," Ginny sighed nostalgically. "Those were times."

"Hmph!" Daphne humped. "Why didn't I notice anything?"

"Well, what kind of normal… or not normal person, or squirrel, would run to dungeons when they want to escape the worst?"

"You're right," the Slytherin concurred. "I'm sure Snape used squirrel ears for something. If I think about it really hard, I seem to recall it was the main component in his shampoo."

That took Ginny a moment to reconsider.

And another moment. And one more.

"Snape used shampoo?" she asked at last, incredulously.

"Yeah, I know – rather unbelievable, isn't it?"

"Try impossible," Ginny gave a wry smile. Daphne smirked.

"You didn't like Snape much?" the Gryffindor ventured.

"No. His favouring Slytherins finally stated to get on my nerves, and since I'm a Slytherin, it's saying a lot."

Ginny smiled. She **really** liked Daphne.

"Who's getting Potions this time?"

"Millie. Draco's right – she does like Potions," Daphne explained. "Although, that might have been because she had a crush on Snape – impossible, I know, but Millie is known for being impossible. She might very well be the new Snape, just as evil and horrible, even though her hair isn't greasy."

"She could pour oil on her head to help with that," she suggested, very much aware that she didn't have to study under Millicent Bulstrode. Thank Merlin and everyone else who feels responsible for it!

"She can. But she can also be very frightening with clean hair. Believe me, I know."

The way she had spoken those last words, gave Ginny a shudder of horror, and new appreciation of having been a Gryffindor and escaping the destiny of sharing a dorm room with Millicent.

"What happened?" she couldn't help but ask.

"A misunderstanding. Blaise got a bit ironic and said that he thought Snape fancied Potter. He barely made it out of the way of her Fire Hex. Unfortunately, my favourite armchair didn't."

Ginny seriously regretted her question. Talking about all the EWW things, this was definitely more EWW than anything else. **EWWW!**

Quickly, she changed the subject.

"I suppose you talk to Millicent then. Who else is on the list?"

"Out of Slytherins, Blaise and Vinny. I'll talk to Blaise – we are like a sister and a brother to each other. Meaning, we annoy each other to hell and back. But he actually dropped in after the party and said how much he appreciated the fact that at one moment he had almost convinced his boss to give him a promotion and the next they were both underwater. Not that it matters anymore, since he is going to get a new job now. Ancient Runes – damned complicated thing. Not for us, _normal_ people."

Ginny almost said "I think it's fascinating" simply to annoy her friend, but decided against it.

"There are worse things that Ancient Runes," she said instead. "Like Hermione trying to teach you about Ancient Runes."

"We can only hope she will be a better teacher with Arithmancy."

"I never said she was a bad teacher," Ginny grinned. "She just gets a bit demanding at times. Like this once, when I asked her this one small question about uses of bicorn horn in Potions and she clued me to a chair and told me I had to read through some ten huge books before I could get free."

"Really?" Daphne smirked.

"Yes. But luckily for me, she was a bit distracted at the time, and I managed to take the spell off after mere three hours."

"Ooh! She should have been a Slytherin."

"Better not to tell her that," Ginny warned. "Your ears might not survive it."

"I'll remember. So I'll talk to Blaise. And to Vinny as well. Unless you'd like to do it by yourself?"

"What?" the redhead asked, eyeing carefully the gleam in the other girl's eyes. "Don't tell me he had a crush on me."

"Fine. I won't. But he had."

"What's wrong with you, Slytherins? One having a crush on Snape, another on me!!"

"So you're saying you're just as bad as Snape?"

Ginny blushed. She had gone a bit awry with that logic. After all, there was nothing odd with Crabbe having a crush on her – she was beautiful, and smart, and brave, and funny, and a nice person as well. No wonder Crabbe had had a crush on her.

"All right, I'll talk to Vinny then," she agreed, her opinion of that Slytherin boy having risen more than just a couple of notches. He thought she was beautiful!

"You do that. He would **love** to see you. I'll take the charming Terry Boot then. I could really use a charming boy right now."

Ginny smiled a knowing smile. She was so lucky to have Harry. And, according to this new information, Crabbe.

"Luna, Dean, and Grawp still left."

"Well, that's quite a choice."

"Is it?" Daphne asked.

"Oh yes. Luna is weird. Dean is a professional Quidditch player. And Grawp is a Giant."

"I claim the Giant!" Daphne exclaimed at once, earning a suspicious glare from Ginny.

"I've always been curious about them," she explained, earning another suspicious glare from her friend.

"What?" she asked at last. "Can't a girl have interests?"

"You're weird."

"I know!" Daphne grinned. "Great, isn't it?"

"I suppose I take Luna and Dean then."

"I could talk to Luna as well. I think we might have a lot in common."

Ginny gave her friend a long contemplative look.

"I think you may be right."

"Sure I am. So, all for today?"

"Not quite. We still have the other matter to deal with."

"Which one?"

"Project _Oh – Romance_!"

"Leave it to me," Daphne assured. "I'll have an idea."

"What?"

"I'll let you know when the time comes," the Slytherin smirked devilishly.

Hermione and Draco were definitely going to get it now. Oh – Romance!

* * *

**A/N: **I once talked about purple crayon for fifteen minutes. But that's not important right now, so leave a **REVIEW**, ok? 


	5. New friends, Old enemies

**A/N: **Here's the next chappie. A bit jumpy towards the end, but I hope you won't mind. :)

**--- **

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Harry Potter_. I don't own Saaremaa. I even haven't been to Saaremaa. But I like cucumbers.

**--- **

**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 5: New friends, Old enemies**_

Looking down at her ivory robes, Ginny nervously smoothed the non-existent wrinkles away. She shouldn't be this nervous, she thought. Then again, she probably shouldn't be standing at Crabbe's door at the moment either, dressed to kill.

What would Harry say if he could see her now? Well, he would compliment her looks, of course, tell her how much he loves her, and steal a couple of kisses, but what would Harry say if he saw her standing like this at Crabbe's door? Nothing, Ginny realized. He would be far too shocked to say anything – he would just stand there, mouth gaping like a fish, looking like an idiot. And adorably sweet.

This image brought a smile to her lips, and finding new courage, Ginny raised her hand and knocked.

After enough moments had passed to make her a bit apprehensive again, the door swung open, revealing a red-faced and panting Crabbe, who gave her a stupid look.

Ginny made a mental note to kill Daphne later on. If only the other girl had not, somehow, made her curious enough to come, she wouldn't be here now. She would probably be at the Burrow, taking care of her wedding stuff, which meant that she, Molly, and Fleur would stand around the kitchen table, yelling at the top of their lungs, and throwing plates to the floor – yes, it was fun indeed to plan a wedding.

But now, she was standing here, in front of Crabbe, who was still looking at her stupidly, without being one bit cute in the process, contrary to Harry. His breathing was growing steadier, but his face was still as red as before, his mouth open, and his gaze… well, he was either shocked to see her, didn't have a clue who she was, or trying to figure out where he had left his wand so that he could fetch it, and hex her.

If Daphne had lied about him having a crush on her, she would not only kill her new friend, but do unthinkable horrors to her before. Like enlist her help in the planning of her wedding, and send her to the kitchen with Molly and Fleur.

"Hello, Vincent," she said at last, hoping it would make things better, or at least coax some response out of him. Even a scream would have suited her right now. But it didn't. Crabbe was still staring at her stupidly.

Perhaps an introduction was necessary.

"I'm Ginny," Ginny said. "Ginny Weasley. We went to school together. I was in Gryffindor."

"Ginevra," Crabbe said in awe and continued to stare at her. Well, at least he seemed to remember her. And wasn't very intent on punching her in the face, either. Which was a good thing, probably.

"May I come in?" she asked, trying to accomplish some kind of progress.

He nodded, but made no move to step aside and let her pass.

"Erm… could you please move away?"

Crabbe nodded again, but held his spot firmly, still gaping at her.

With a sigh, Ginny ducked under his arm and slipped into the house. Or at least tried to. The severe miscalculation on her part was to think that the room between the doorframe and his arm was wide enough for her to make through; in reality it wasn't, and she got stuck.

Between Crabbe and Crabbe's doorframe. And that really wasn't her place of choice to be. So she pushed a little, pulled a little, and pushed with all her might, which resulted in Crabbe falling backwards to the floor, and her tumbling down into his lap.

At that moment Ginny really wanted to burst out crying. Or perhaps laughing – the situation was indeed very funny, and she would have probably laughed herself crazy had it happened to someone else. But as it was, it wasn't someone else straddling a sprawled-out Crabbe at the moment.

And if that wasn't awful enough, the treacherous thought of things not being able to get any worse had barely made it to her mind, when someone cleared their throat above her.

Not knowing what to expect, she looked up, finding not just one face but a bunch of them gazing back at her, an amused smile on more than one mouth. Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Millicent Bulstrode, Gregory Goyle, and many other Slytherins she could vaguely remember from school, and some people she had never seen before, seemed to be having the time of their life on her expense.

_Wonderful_, Ginny thought. _Just wonderful._

Scrambling up from the floor and Crabbe most ungracefully, she straightened up, lifted her chin, and concentrated all her Weasley and Gryffindor courage and pride against her old enemies, giving them a superior glance of her own, and overall being ready for anything they might do to her.

But when someone of the crowd called out "Give her a kiss", and Crabbe proceeded to do this just as a camera flashed, she realized that there were some things she hadn't been quite ready for.

---

All right, so she had to admit that this party was a lot better than the previous one. Perhaps because this had been thrown mostly by Draco and Millicent, as she had found out, and not by Draco's secretary.

The spiked punch was present, firewhiskey was flowing freely, and a quite bearable music was playing at the dance floor. People were sitting in comfy sofas and armchairs in groups of two or three, laughing, talking, and drinking together, attacking the snack table for crisps and mini-sandwiches, or having fun at the floor.

Ginny had tried it all out as well, even dancing with Crabbe. And with Malfoy. And with Zabini. And with another boy she didn't know. So what? She loved to dance.

Right now she was occupying a nice sofa by the fire, and persuading Crabbe to bring her Adrian Pucey's camera.

"I don't think he will do anything bad with those pictures," Crabbe spoke. It would be a huge lie to say that they were comfortable in each other's company, but at least they were talking, which in her opinion was a great leap forwards.

"He might show them to Harry." _Might my ass, _Ginny thought. _He will show them to Harry. Or better yet, sell to the Daily Prophet. _When it came to Harry, she was sure about his love for her, and she knew that he would understand; but it would still be a scandal, especially so little before their wedding. And people would get all kinds of ideas, and they would talk, and Harry didn't like people talking about him, although as The Saviour of Wizardkind, he was not going to escape that any time soon. But his reputation was good, and she didn't want to ruin it – she didn't want there to be anything to shadow their happiness, their marriage, and the beginning of their new life.

Thus, she really had to get those pictures back before the Slytherins could do Slytherinish things with them.

Crabbe said nothing. He couldn't quite figure out why she didn't want Potter to see those photos. After all, people always took photos at parties to later share them with their friends and family. The people Adrian had shown his pictures were usually so happy to see them that they gave him large amounts of money to show their gratitude.

Ginny, good at reading people, and since Vincent was not the most difficult person to understand (because he usually thought out loud, mumbling to himself), realized his opinion of all this, and her need to change it.

"Vincent," she started, turning towards him and looking him straight in the eye. "I know we haven't got along that good in the past, but times have changed now, and so have people. I've only spent a couple of moments with you, really with you, but I've already started to think of you in a different light. You're not as bad as I thought you were. You're rather decent once I get to know you better. But, Vincent," and she grabbed his hand on impulse (stupid impulses!).

"If we had met before, or in different circumstances, there might have been something more to us. But as it is, I'm in love with Harry and will soon become his wife. Therefore, I can offer you nothing but my friendship, but that I do offer, and I hope you will accept it, and appreciate it, just like I know I will treasure yours. So, Vincent, in the name of that friendship, could you please bring me Adrian Pucey's camera? If you do, I'd be forever grateful to you. I know, you think those pictures mean nothing, but in the hands of certain people, bad people (_the evil evil Slytherins_, she added in her mind), they can cause me a lot of trouble. You wouldn't want me to be sad, do you?"

She ended her speech in a miserable tone and made puppy-dog eyes at him, mentally congratulating herself for the wonderful speech, and thinking she should really win some award for it.

And that's why she only smiled when a voice spoke out.

"Wonderful speech. I applaud to you, Weaslette. Really, they should give you an award for it."

It took her a moment to realize that it was Malfoy standing behind them and smirking down at her, and she only realized it because of Crabbe's greeting of "Hey, Draco! Would Adrian mind if I stole his camera?"

Ginny blushed and cursed under her breath. So much for her brilliant speech. What brought her even more down, was suddenly becoming aware of still holding Crabbe's hand in hers, and even though she let go quickly, by his devilish grin, as she turned to face him, Malfoy had most definitely noticed.

"Why don't you go and ask him yourself?" he suggested to Crabbe, who thought it a good idea, and rushed off to do just that. He really did like Ginny. She had really lovely hair. And her eyes sparkled. And she wanted to be his friend. No one had ever pleaded him to accept their friendship. So, perhaps his feelings for her were a little bit deeper, but he had always known she was too good, too smart, too beautiful for him; and if she offered friendship, he was not going to turn it down. In fact, he was ready to do almost anything to keep her happy. And if what she wanted Adrian's camera, then that's what he was going to get her. Provided, of course, that Adrian didn't mind.

Leaving Ginny alone with Draco, there was a noticeable spring in his step. At least until Millicent told him to stop the stomping before the floor gave way.

"So, Weaslette," Malfoy took a seat beside the girl. "Enjoying **this** party so far?"

"Compared to the **last**, it's pure heaven," she spat back, refusing to beg him for anything. It was one thing to ask those photos from Crabbe, but she would never stoop this low in front of Malfoy.

_Funny_, she thought with a wry smile. _And that's the guy I'm trying to set up with Hermione._

"Great speech," he said again. "Although you are seducing the wrong Slytherin here. Pucey doesn't have those pictures anymore."

"Then who?" she asked, although the answer was glaringly obvious.

"Me," Malfoy smirked. "And let me give you a small hint – I'm not much of a man of words, but one of actions."

_That you are, _Ginny thought with a real smile now, thinking back to all those kisses the journal described as passionate.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Draco," she said sweetly. "Unfortunately, I'm taken already. But my dear friend Hermione is still single, even though with all the men competing for her attention, I'm afraid it won't be so for long."

"Why should I give a damn for that bookwormish prude?" Draco said a bit too quickly.

"Well, she's not that much of a prude anymore," Ginny smirked. "A bit wild our sweet girl has gone."

That was not a complete lie. Hermione did go wild once in a while. Even though Ginny had to practically drag her there. And even though Hermione's definition of going wild meant sitting in the bar and sipping her drink, which was alcoholic only when Ginny managed to order it for both of them.

The look on Draco's face, however, was almost worth the scandal those pictures in Daily Prophet would cause. Almost, but not quite. Still, if she had had any doubts before, she now knew for sure that she was going to get those two together, no matter what.

Sparing her of his usual insults, Malfoy left with a "Have a peek at tomorrow's Prophet" and "Enjoy the party."

Ginny would have turned this one into a whirlpool as well. But then she decided against it, and took permanent residence at the dance floor instead. They were sneaky and evil and bastards, these Slytherin men, but at least they could dance.

---

"Where you attacked by a Verdeseus?"

Daphne considered the question.

"Not that I know of," she said at last. "Unless that was the name of that really cute guy I met at the door. Although, he didn't attack me. Unfortunately."

"Oh, that was Sven Svensson. He's our Swedish correspondent and one of the best experts on Crumple-Horned Snorkacks."

"Who's Verdeseus then?" Daphne asked half-mindedly, thinking about having a trip to Sweden, and letting **someone** show her around there. Around his house, for example.

"Verdeseus is a cucumber spirit. He seldom comes out to play with people, but when he does, he might get a bit too carried away. He's harmless really, unless you're allergic to colour green. He dyes his victims, you see."

"Oh, that's nice," Daphne commented, still thinking about Sven Svensson.

"Is he married?"

"Of course there are both female and male cucumber spirits. I mean, where else would little spirits come from – a daddy cucumber spirit meets a mommy cucumber spirit, and they get together, and visit each other's cucumbers, and then they embrace, and a new cucumber gets born with this little spirit already inside."

"That's lovely. I like cucumbers. But I meant that guy, Eric Ericsson."

"You mean Sven Svensson? Yes, he's married."

"Damn!" Daphne cursed. "All the good ones are taken."

Luna looked up from her carrot-raspberry muffin.

"I'm sorry, you wanted it yourself?"

---

"Grawp is good brother."

"Yes, of course."

"Hagger goes to Saaremaa."

"That's what I heard."

"Leaves Grawp here."

"Yes."

"Grawp take care of things. Good care. Grawp is good brother."

"Yes, Grawp is good brother. Can Grawp sing?"

---

"WHAT?"

"Mr. Thompson is not here right now, Miss," the Ministry Official repeated a bit louder, giving the weird girl in front of him a suspicious look. She didn't look too bad, he had to admit, with the bed sheet wrapped around her in Indian style, her hair green and messy, eyes sparkling emerald, and her hearing apparently not the very best. In fact, her hearing aside, she looked very much like someone just having left her bed, preferably after a passionate night, for the short trip to the bathroom.

The Ministry of Magic, however, was not a bathroom, even though it had some.

"I'LL WAIT!!!" the girl announced over the large hall, so those who had somehow missed her appearance, couldn't look past her now.

Brian Carrie, having been unfortunate enough to receive her in the first place, quickly led her towards Mr. Thompson's office and away from all the prying eyes. He could hear the slow murmur of gossip the moment he turned his back, and knew that in an hour, the whole place would know about it. Well, at least it would be Mr. Thompson's problem from there on.

But they never made it to the nicely private office, with a nice lockable door.

"DEAN THOMAS!!!"

Startled, the new Quidditch Star turned around, and realized that perhaps it hadn't been the best day after all to visit his long-term friend Seamus, who worked for the Ministry.

Then again, perhaps it was. Because, the Ministry did have bathrooms. Nicely private bathrooms with nice lockable doors.

---

**A/N: **Aaaaah! I'm out of inspiration!!! Help!!!!!! Hint: **REVIEW**s help. :)


	6. Progress, or lack thereof

**Note: **I hope this explains things a little better for those who got confused by the ending of the last chapter. :)

---

**Disclaimer: **Things you can recognize from the _Harry Potter _books belong to J. K. Rowling. Other things, like the plot, might just be mine. :D

**--- **

**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 6: Progress, or lack thereof**_

"Can you say CowVow?" Daphne asked, looking like she had just left the bed after a passionate night for a short trip into the bathroom. Her appearance was deceptive, however. In fact, she had not just spent a passionate night and was not on a trip into the bathroom. It was daytime, and she already was in a bathroom. In the Ministry of Magic. With Quidditch star Dean. The concept of Pigwarts hadn't been mentioned so far. But now that the good stuff seemed to be over, she had decided to bring it up.

"Ow-Ow?" Dean repeated, puzzled. "What's that?"

"Oh, nothing much," she sighed, twirling her wand. She had actually already spoken the incantation earlier, when he had been too occupied to notice.

"Just something to assure you will keep our secret."

"Our secret. You mean this? If you want to. I mean, it's not like I have much to tell. I mean, I don't even know your name yet."

"It's Daphne," Daphne said. "Daphne Greengrass. We were in the same year at Hogwarts."

"Oh, I'm awfully sorry for not recognizing you," Dean said, mentally going though the list of all the girls in his year, trying to place the one before him.

"Doesn't matter," Daphne waved her hand. "But that's not our secret. In fact, you could announce it in the _Daily Prophet_ if you wanted, I wouldn't mind."

Dean gave her a careful look.

"Are you saying you want to see me again?"

"Do you? I wouldn't mind, really. You're quite alright, I suppose. For a Gryffindor."

"You were in Ravenclaw then?"

"Do the colours I'm wearing tell you nothing?" she raised a brow.

He looked. Green. Silver. Green and silver. Silver and green. Silver. Green.

"Slytherin?" he gasped in horror.

"And proud of it!" Daphne declared proudly.

"Oh, well, that's good for you," he seemed to bit nervous. "You know, I should really go now. Have things to do, and all that. But, I suppose I'll see you around. Bye!"

Daphne stared after him for a while, a pensive expression on her face.

"Nah," she said at last. "Blue and bronze don't suit me."

---

At their weekly meeting, Ginny and Daphne reported their progress.

"I went to Crabbe, and then I accidentally fell on him, and all his friends were there, and they made him kiss me, and now Malfoy has some very good photo material to blackmail me with!"

"I went to Grawp and asked him to sing to me, which caused me some good half an hour of deafness. I also met Dean in the Ministry of Magic. We had a bit fun in the bathroom but the moment he found out I was Slytherin, he slipped out of the room as fast as a soap in the bath-tub."

They took a few moments to consider what the other had said, then realized that **their** problem was much bigger, and went on ranting.

"What do I do? Knowing Malfoy he will certainly publish those pictures, and even though I can explain it all to Harry, the people are way too receptive to such rumours and I don't want to start getting all the hate-mail and killer glares."

"We didn't even manage to discuss Pigwarts. I did put him under CowVow, though. I wonder, will it kick in when he mentions our affair to anyone?"

"And even if he doesn't publish them, I don't want Malfoy having something like this over me!!!"

"And Luna said Sven Svensson was married!!!"

After another few moments of silence and couple of spoonfuls of their chocolate cake, Daphne summed up the situation.

"We're really making progress here, it seems."

"How did it go with Luna?" Ginny asked, once she had calmed down.

"Oh, she's in," Daphne explained with a smile. "She really liked the idea. First, she wanted to have Care For Magical Creatures, but after I explained that her name goes better together with Astronomy, and Ginevra sounds like some type of mollusc, she realized I was right, and was happy to come teach once the school is founded."

"Well, actually, when I was dancing with Blaise we did a bit talking during the slow dances, and I managed to bring up the subject of work. He said he was considering changing jobs and I said I might know something, and he said he was ready to try new things, and did you say I look like a mollusc?"

"Nope," she shook her head. "Just that your name sounds like one."

"Oh, all right then. Anyway, afterwards we talked a bit more, and well, I'm quite certain he will accept when you offer it to him."

"Hmm, and I sure I can manage to talk Grawp into this as well. Next time I just won't ask him to sing to me."

"Yes, that would be advisable," Ginny nodded. "So it seems we are making **some** progress after all."

"So."

"So."

"Umm."

"Erm."

"Let's recap!" Ginny exclaimed. "What did we have to accomplish this passed week?"

"I had to register the school. You had to design its logo or something. We had to talk a lot of people into teaching at the school."

"And what have we done?"

"You got compromising photos of you into the hands of your enemy, and I got dumped by a Quidditch star for being Slytherin after a short tryst in one of the Ministry's bathrooms."

"What a wonderful recapitulation," Ginny sighed.

"Thanks."

"So, any helpful tips on Malfoy and some certain photos?"

"Sure," Daphne smiled. "That's easy."

"You crawl back to him, apologize profusely, and steal them for me?"

Daphne stared at her for a moment and then burst out laughing.

"Yes, haha," Ginny narrowed her eyes in annoyance.

"No, nothing like that, my dear accomplice. You simply need something discriminating about him as well."

The redhead gave that idea some thought.

"Hmm. Would those poems do the trick?"

"I suppose he might sell you his life for not publishing his "Ode to Eels", but you would need the original poem for it and I'm afraid he destroyed them all after catching me in act."

"And you don't recall it by heart?"

"You mean "Ode of Eels"?" Daphne gave her a funny look. "That was about fifty pages long. Even I don't have that good memory."

"Fifty pages?" Ginny gasped. "What can one write about eels that much?"

"That if you add an H to their beginning, they become heels. And if they are electric, they shock people. And that you can strangle Harry Potter with them."

"Fifty pages? Well, I'll be damned."

"I wouldn't wish it if I were you," Daphne warned. "My grandma was damned for a day at one time. She got attacked by rabid bats, her left ear dropped off, her cat ran away, her house fell down, and she became allergic to chocolate."

"Why was she damned for only one day?"

"Because then my grandpa forgave her and took the curse down."

Ginny moved further away from the other girl.

"Don't worry," Daphne smiled wistfully, "I would never do this to you. I don't know the curse."

"About Dean," Ginny said after another period of silence. "Don't feel too down, he really is such a playboy. Recently, at least. Has a lots of girls but never owls back, I've heard. I don't think all this fame and glory has done him good."

Daphne shrugged.

"It's not that. I'm not naïve to think that anyone who has fun with a girl without knowing her name is going to owl them later on. Just that he left before I managed to mention Pigwarts."

"Oh. Well, I can handle him myself."

"Oh, I can, too," Daphne insisted.

"So."

"So."

"So, you didn't register the school yet, I gather."

"Oh! Yes, I did that. Right after Dean. Went straight to Mr. Thompson and registered the school in total secrecy."

"How did you manage that?" Ginny asked in awe.

"Must be my gorgeous looks. Although, that man was SO infuriating!"

"What happened?"

"Some people just don't get subtlety. I mean, I went to him and told that I had to register a school, and he said he didn't do such things. Then I said I had to do this in total secrecy, and he said he didn't do such things – secret or not. Then I said a friend of mine is going to have a birthday soon, and he asked how that was his business. I said I might want to invite him there to perform, and he said he was confused. I said that with his past he really could entertain people, and he told me to explain myself. I said that I have this other friend whose child is turning five very soon and I'd love to invite his wife to the party. He made another confused face. I explained that his wife would be good with children. He said they do have children of their own. I said his wife would be good with children because of her past. He tried to throw me out of his office for wasting his time and talking nonsense. I snapped at last and told him that if he didn't do my asking, I would tell the whole Ministry his choice of career before becoming an official and the choice of career of his wife before. He made this really, really incredulous face and asked whether I was blackmailing him. I said no, of course not, just a friendly deal."

"Then what?" Ginny prompted.

"Then he said he still didn't do such things and that if I wanted to register a school, I should turn instead to some colleague of his. I opened my mouth and screamed."

"And what did he do?"

"He promised to do whatever I wanted if only I would shut up."

"And you?"

"I shut up."

"If only things were so easy for me," Ginny sighed. "Hey, perhaps they are. Perhaps I should just find Malfoy and scream into his ear until her promises to fulfill each and every wish of mine as well."

"Won't do," Daphne shook her head. "He has… had me as a friend, after all."

"Let's list our objectives for next week then."

"Talk a lot of people into teaching."

"Get those photos back from Malfoy."

"Umm."

"Erm."

"What else do we need to found a school?"

"Students?" Ginny offered.

"Turn the Manor into a suitable schoolhouse?"

"Yes. But how? Malfoy's in there."

"Well," Daphne smirked her I-have-a-plan-but-I'm-not-going-to-tell-you-yet-nah-nah-nah smirk. "We just have to keep him occupied with other things."

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**End Note: **I'll give you three guesses on what those other things might be. ;) **REVIEW !!!**

_Lehmavanne _translates directly into CowVow. The reason I didn't tell you this before was that CowVow sounds so grrreat that it just needed to be mentioned in another chapter. Doesn't it sound absolutely fantastic? Say it with me, CowVow. CowVow. CowVow. CowVow. :D

And there was something else I wanted to say... oh, yes. I don't think I'll quite manage this story with 10 chapters. It's going to be something around 20, I think.


	7. Daphne's Plan

**Note! **If you have died from waiting for the romance to begin, then you can go and resurrect yourself because the romance starts here. Whiiiiii!!!

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**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own any particular chaos either at the moment, except for the one on my table.

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 7: Daphne's Plan**_

Ginny was starting to regret her decision of choosing Daphne as her victim… erm… accomplice. Not that she wasn't competent enough; in fact she was far too good with these things, so good that she started to leave Ginny in her shadow.

And that was what she did not like - she had to be the star of the show, the Master Chaos Maker, not the second in command. It had been her idea, after all, and she refused to become just a sidekick.

What she disliked most about Daphne and their current situation, was the girl keeping secrets. And far too many of them. When Ginny got a devious idea, she told her about it so that they could point a finger and laugh together evilly. When Daphne got an idea, she smirked and told Ginny to leave it all to her.

Like now, when she had owled her with a couple of lines stating she had a plan, and that her part in it was to get Hermione drunk.

So that's why Ginny was currently brooding in a bar, two glasses of tequila with tonic in front of her, waiting for her friend to show up. Hermione usually didn't drink alcohol when they were out together, but she didn't seem to mind when Ginny ordered it for her (she usually did it to get her drunk and spill all her secrets concerning men and dating; it hadn't worked, though).

"Hey," Hermione greeted her, taking a seat across from her.

"Hiya, girlfriend," Ginny spoke cheerfully.

"Everything fine with you, Gin?"

"Brilliant. You?"

"I'm fine, thanks," she answered and took a careful sip of her drink. "Trying to get me drunk again?"

"Now why would I want to do that?" Ginny made an angel face. "I just wanted to have a bit of chat with you - how you have been, what you have done…"

"Who I have dated?"

"Your words, not mine," Ginny remarked.

Hermione sighed.

"I did have a date, actually."

"Who? When? Where did you go? What did you do? How was it? Was he a good kisser? Did you like it? Are you going out again?"

Hermione, who was accustomed to such streams of questions, didn't even roll her eyes.

"Michael, a colleague. Last Saturday. Went to a Greek restaurant first and then to that new club in Hogsmeade - Red Ribbons. It was quite nice, I suppose. I don't know if we'll go out again.. probably not."

"Why not? And was he a good kisser?"

"He was nice, and attractive, and charming, and everything, but… not…"

"What?" Ginny inquired with a mischievous smile.

"If you want the truth," Hermione sighed and Ginny nodded fervently. "Then it was too simple… too easy… no depth, no mystery, nothing like that. You think I'm crazy now, don't you? Trying to make my life harder than it could be."

"Not at all. You just like your men complicated. And I'm sure you will find one intricate enough sooner or later." _Like later tonight_, she added in mind.

Hermione graced her friend with a brilliant though a bit doubtful smile and turned the conversation to wedding-talk. Ginny let her get away with it this time.

---

Two drinks later, when Hermione was getting chirpy and joined Ginny in checking out all the men in the bar, a small envelope appeared on their table in a puff of green smoke.

"What's this?" Hermione pointed.

Ginny looked at the envelope. Its green and silver colours spoke volumes to her about its origin, and she would have almost grabbed it had she not noticed something just in time.

"It's for you," she said with a smile.

Hermione eyed her carefully. By the look of it, the redhead angel was up to something. Probably something about going wild again. She was to turn the offer down, but her stupid curiosity simply could not leave her be.

"Oh, all righty then," she said and picked the said envelope up.

Ginny stared at the empty place where her friend had been just a moment ago, wondering whether she should worry and call the Aurors or something, or this was meant to happen in the first place. Her musings were ended by a beaming Daphne, who fell down to Hermione's seat, grinned from ear to ear, and ordered herself a drink.

---

Hermione's world was spinning. This was not too unusual, but she couldn't remember having drunk that much. The second thing she ordered had been a mineral water, after all.

But then the world stopped spinning and she found herself in front of a door. It was a rather massive door, dark brown, and bore a sign saying 'Open me. Pretty please'.

Dark Wizards had never left that kind of signs when trying to lure good people into traps. Perhaps that was their doom. After all, such a sign was way too suspicious to be suspicious at all. Still, Hermione drew her wand out before entering.

---

Draco Malfoy was plotting murder. Perhaps Voldemort had been right – think in allies, not in friends. Because there was a particular friend Draco would have loved to practice some neck-wringing and dark curses on. He should have realized that when a Slytherin claims to want to apologize, there is no such thing as too much precaution. But he had got careless, and now he was here. Damn that woman could hold grudges, and almost for fifteen years. Not that he wouldn't have done the same in her place, but he would have done it sooner, not having the patience to wait this long.

But she had managed to surprise him after almost two decades of knowing each other. Well, at least their relationship was not boring. But then again, no place with Dolly could ever be boring, like she had proved him once again at his high-class birthday party.

Draco growled. It didn't help his situation, but it was better than nothing. Oh well, sooner or later someone would find him. Hopefully sooner. The chains weren't that comfortable. Of course, it wasn't their role to be comfortable; after all, if you put someone in chains you usually don't want them to be comfortable, quite the opposite. But now he was seriously considering renewing this part of the house a bit as well. With some cushions, and armchairs, and perhaps even a fireplace somewhere. And certainly do something with the chains.

And a carpet would not hurt either. And… wait a second, was that the door?

Draco listened. It had sounded like the door. And now it sounded like someone carefully coming down the stairs.

He already opened his mouth to call out for her stupid friend – "Didn't have the guts to keep me here any longer? I'm disappointed in you, Dolly." – but decided against it in case she would change her mind then and leave him here to rot.

"Ginny?" a voice called out. "Is this your doing?"

He knew that voice. He simply could not place it yet. Oh, well, he would see its owner any moment now when they would reach the end of the stairs. It would probably be a bit embarrassing, since it wasn't Dolly, but sure he could be suave enough to make it seem like there was nothing extraordinary about the situation.

Wait. Did the voice just call out for Ginny? Like Ginevra Weasley? Oh no! He wasn't very fond of that turn of events. No person who called the little Weaslette Ginny was overly welcomed in his Manor. Except Potter during that stupid birthday party, but then all the blame went to his secretary… correction – his ex-secretary.

He started to make a mental list of all such people. There was Potter, of course, and then Weasley, and then… oh no! Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!

Damn.

Hermione had finally made it all the way downstairs, into a small damp room lit by a couple of torches along the wall. But there was also something else along the wall, something she couldn't not notice.

For a moment she thought she was seeing things, but when the vision did not disappear but continued to glare at her, she decided to go with the flow once again. She would have to thank Ginny later for ordering her that tequila – there were some things in the world she would rather not face when sober.

And a Draco Malfoy chained to a dungeon wall happened to be one of these things.

At the same time the said Draco Malfoy was thinking fast. He was good at it, usually. But being chained to a dungeon wall and facing the girl who he had hated and tormented for six years until one drunken night when he had kissed and cuddled with her, could not by any standards be called usual. Yet he was doing his best in fast thinking.

She hasn't changed much, he thought. But there was some new confidence about her, a new feeling of self-awareness, a new sense of maturity, something that made her seem bold and determined as well as sweet and pretty.

Pretty? Phew. Of course not pretty. Beautiful. Especially in this mild light which made her skin glow and gave an unearthly gleam to her hair.

Hmm, that fast thinking wasn't that hard at all, he realized.

Damn he was looking good. Must be the alcohol in her blood. Or the stupid torches. Or the stupid chains. Hermione wondered how many people could manage to look good while chained to a dungeon wall, but Malfoy had certainly succeeded in that. He had the look, the aura of a caged beast around him, still and wary at the moment, but should she get too close… Hermione gave a mental shudder and quickly shook that thought away before she would find it impossible to stay cool.

Stay cool. There was Malfoy, who had hated and tormented her for six years until one drunken night when other things had happened (things that made her blush and sent not at all the bad kind of shivers through her body), chained to a dungeon wall. He was helpless, or at least as helpless as a caged tiger could ever be.

Well, at least he wasn't smirking.

Hermione took it as her clue to do exactly that. Even though her smirk was less like a smirk and more like a devilish grin. Well, at least it managed to make Malfoy look a bit apprehensive, and that was the main thing.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A Granger in the dungeons," he said in his obnoxious tone, which shook a bit more than he would have liked.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" she repeated his sentence. "A Ferret chained to a dungeon wall."

All right. So perhaps his opening sentence hadn't been the best.

"My house, my dungeons," he shrugged.

"Of course. It's your liberty to chain yourself to your wall every time you feel like it."

"Of course," he scoffed. "Just thought to test whether the chains still hold. In case I might need them. And seeing you here, it seems I do."

"And do they?" she asked, not one bit frightened. Perhaps because she still had her wand, and he was chained to a wall.

"Do they what?"

"Do the chains hold?"

Draco struggled a bit against the chains keeping him firmly in place.

"Yes, they do," he replied darkly.

Hermione's devilish grin became even more devilish as she pointed her wand at him.

"I wouldn't do it if I were you," he warned her. He really had to congratulate himself for suppressing his first reaction to her wand movement which was something like "No! Don't do it! Please!"

"Of course you would," she grinned and said her spell. Draco prepared himself for whichever blow was to come. The chains glowed green for a moment, then the light disappeared and everything was the way it had been before.

For Draco at least, who wasn't able to read the silver letters now visible above his head.

_Hello, Hermione! _they said. _I hope you will appreciate my little gift for you. A cute little ferret chained to a dungeon wall – what better can a girl wish for. I'd say he doesn't bite, but that would be a lie. For further fun, however, you'll find the instructions on the table to your left. Enjoy!_

The writing faded the moment she had finished reading, but she had already turned away and stepped to the said table in the corner of the room.

"What did you do?" Draco demanded. "What was that spell?"

"Oh, that was nothing," she replied absent-mindedly, picking up another green and silver envelope from the table, and finding a letter in it. "Just testing the chains. You were right – they do hold."

Silence overtook the room as Draco glared at her and Hermione read the letter. But after she had burst out laughing for the seventh time already, he could not keep himself back any longer.

"What does it say, Granger?"

She turned around, the same highly dangerous smile on her face (the one Harry and Ron knew as the run-for-your-life smile).

"Let's play a game," she said. "It's called – Cookie Torture the Ferret."

Daphne was going to pay for this.

* * *

**End Note: **MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHHAAAAA!!! 

If you got a bit confused about Hermione's spell, then it was one merely checking whether the chains really held Draco in place, or whether it was just some trick of his. Daphne's message, however, was cast to be revealed under any magic.

And now, **REVIEW**


	8. Sweet Revenge, Literally

**Note! **If you like this story, please check out "Chess" by TwoTrees. It's my joint account with Genetic Island, and we would really appreciate your reviews there. Pretty please with a cherry on top. :) Okay, enough of shameless advertising now, go and read the chapter. :D**  
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**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Harry Potter_. But I do have some cookies. ;)**  
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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 8: Sweet Revenge, Literally**_

"If you were not a girl, and I didn't love Harry, I would marry you," Ginny announced.

Daphne gave her a calculating look.

"Hmm, I don't know. You're not my type. Too… skinny."

Ginny humphed.

"Who would you rather have then, Millicent?"

"I think I'd take Luna."

"You're crazy," Ginny informed her friend.

"I know! Isn't it wonderful!"

The redhead had to agree with that.

"Shush! The show begins," she said, turning towards the faintly bluish hole in the wall. They were sitting in another dungeon, very similar to the first one, but instead of a Draco Malfoy chained to a wall, this room had a fireplace, soft red carpet, and two utterly comfortable golden armchairs with two utterly comfortable young women holding a large bowl of popcorn and a large cup of lemonade each.

(Hermione had introduced Ginny to the concept of Muggle cinema, and she thought it really suited their present situation.)

The transparent bluish hole in the wall was nothing more than a nifty spell that gave them clear view into the next room, which happened to be the one with a chained Draco and a devilishly grinning Hermione.

(The hole worked in only one way, though, so the solid stone wall looked like a solid stone wall from the other side of it. Because Ginny and Daphne had thought it might be a bit difficult for Draco and Hermione to look past a huge hole in the wall and two girls sitting in armchairs, eating popcorn, drinking lemonade, and watching them with curiosity.)

---

Draco was still staring, the reality way too unreal to be acceptable. And way too horrible, as well.

"_Instructions_," Hermione continued to read the letter. "_Take a cookie from the plate (on that corner table)._"

Moving back to the table, she discovered a whole place of chocolate cookies under a piece of cloth, and taking one resumed her previous place.

"_Smell the cookie. _Mmm, delicious. _Say 'Mmm, delicious.' _Mmm, delicious. _Step closer to the Ferret and wave the cookie in front of his face. Be careful not to step too close – he does bite._"

Hermione lowered the letter from her face, and stepped as close as she dared. (Which was a lot closer any person holding their life dear would step to a tiger – caged or otherwise.) Raising the hand with the cookie, she slowly moved it back and front before Draco's eyes, thanking Ginny and the tequila once again – had she been sober, it would have felt utterly ridiculous to do what she was currently doing. Now it felt like fun.

Draco, however, was sober, and did find it utterly ridiculous. At least the cookie. So what if it was a chocolate one and smelled like heaven – it was still just a cookie. But then there was this girl standing so close to him, with her own sweet fragrance and glowing skin and brilliant smile. And he'll be damned if he wasn't affected by that, and if the memories (or more like the scenes he had read) from one certain night months ago didn't come back to him.

"_Eat the cookie,_" Hermione was consulting with the letter again. "_Eat it slowly and make noises as if the man of your dreams (or just some random really cute guy) was presently kissing your neck (or any other part of your body; your choice really)._"

Having finished the sentence, she wondered whether she should blush and run away before things could get even more out of hand, or stay here, follow the instructions, and later blame it all on alcohol. She had already done that last bit without being drunk at all, now she had had at least one glass of it, and even though she was not quite drunk yet, she wasn't quite sober either.

And the cookie did look delicious.

With a nonchalant shrug, she made her decision, and took a bite of the said cookie. All right, so perhaps it looked and smelled a bit better than it tasted, but it was still good, and she hadn't eaten dinner yet. So she did exactly what the letter had said – chewed slowly and made a few moans in the process.

---

"When do you think she'll notice he's transfixed on her, and not on the cookie?" Daphne wondered.

"She should have realized it with the first cookie, but it became glaringly obvious by the third."

"Perhaps she is just playing with him?"

"Well, that she is **definitely** doing, my dear friend," Ginny sniggered.

"I think the right term here would be 'foreplay'," Daphne winked.

---

This was pure torture. It had never been this awful for Daphne because then she had been five years old and didn't have to worry about these things called hormones. And Draco had never waved the cookies in front of her nose, he had simply placed them out of her reach.

But this, this was different. This was pure torture. And he knew he had thought that already, but it was worth thinking twice. Damn! And he had thought that simply being chained to a dungeon wall was bad. Now, with the girl eating cookies before him (and moaning! Moaning! He wondered who she was thinking about while doing it, and decided to kick his ass should he ever find out) and him **still** being chained to a dungeon wall, this was billions of times worse.

He wasn't sure he would survive till the last cookie.

Hermione, the observant girl she was, happened to be quite oblivious to her effect on him this time. It was because of the cookies. They were rather good, and they seemed to be getting better and better. And they were with chocolate. And she really was hungry.

And this really was fun.

---

"I want one of those cookies, too," Ginny whined. Seeing Hermione eat them like they were the best things in the world had got her drooling for them, as well.

"No, you don't," Daphne said.

"Yes, I do," Ginny said stubbornly, then paused and thought for a moment. "What did you put into those cookies?"

"Chocolate," she smirked.

"And?"

"And just a teeny tiny drop of aphrodisiac," the girl admitted with a grin.

"Daphne!"

"What?"

"You drugged her! You weren't supposed to drug her. Now she has no control over her actions, the potion does it all for her!"

"Relax," Daphne calmed her friend. "It doesn't do anything of the like. It simply amplifies some of her feelings. Heightens her spirits. Just like alcohol."

"Oh, all right then," Ginny let herself be calmed down.

---

It was the last cookie. Hermione was a bit sad about that. The cookies had been really good, and they had made her feel really good. (Even better than that glass of tequila.) And now there was only one left. She ate it with a sigh.

"All gone," she announced, and turned to look at Malfoy who seemed a bit… strained.

"Awww, too much for you?" she cooed mischievously.

He had to take a few deep breaths before being able to answer.

"Come here, Granger."

Raising a brow with curiosity, she took another step closer to him, still careful to stay out of his reach.

"Closer," he growled.

"No," she smiled and shook her head. "You bite."

"Don't play with snakes if you don't want to get bitten," he said with a feral grin.

"Snake? No. You're a tiger, Malfoy. A white tiger. Grraaurrr!!!"

---

"Did she just roar?"

"Yeah," Ginny nodded. "Don't worry – she does that sometimes."

"When?"

"When we have run out of the room and are hiding under our beds."

"Oh."

---

Did she just call him a white tiger? Yes, she did. It sounded better than Slytherin bastard and obnoxious scumbag. A lot better.

So, what would tigers do when their prey refused to come closer? Draco didn't know that, but he knew what he was going to do.

"Coward, Hermione?" he asked.

_Just careful, _she wanted to say, but didn't.

"Never," she spoke instead, and stepped closer.

He couldn't grab her shoulders or slide his hands around her waist because they were still chained to the wall at his wrists. But he **could** lower his head, give her a glance of pure carnal desire and claim her lips in a passionate bruising kiss.

She could have pulled away at any second, but she didn't, since the kiss tasted even better than those cookies.

---

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Ginny was screaming, jumping up from the armchair and doing a little victory dance. Daphne continued sitting and looking smug.

"You owe me five Galleons, by the way," the brunette said after a while.

"We did it! We did it! We did it!" Ginny chanted, then fell breathlessly back to her seat.

"You were cheating," she accused. "I didn't know about the aphrodisiac."

"The bet was about Draco falling for it, or should I say for her, and he didn't get any of that stuff."

"Oh. Oh, all right then. You win." She gave her friend the money, then resumed watching the scene in front of them.

"Didn't you want to take pictures?" Daphne asked after a couple of moments.

"Oh! Oh yes!" Ginny exclaimed, took out a camera and started snapping the photos. Once having enough counter-blackmail material, she put it away again.

"Hmm," Daphne remarked after a while. "They don't seem to be stopping any time soon, do they?"

"No, they really don't."

The two chaos-makers sat in silence for a while longer.

"Do you think we should give them some privacy," the Gryffindor suggested. "You know… erm… privacy?"

"They still have their clothes on," Daphne argued.

"Not for long," she commented.

They followed the happenings quietly again.

"When do you think he will notice he isn't chained anymore?" Ginny wondered.

"He surely is using his hands already."

They stared through the magical hole.

They blushed.

They turned around quickly and were very thankful the spell only let them see and not hear the happenings.

"I guess we should go," Ginny said once her face wasn't the same colour as her hair anymore. "Our job here is clearly done. Take the spell down, will you?"

"No way," Daphne shook her head. "I want to see how this is going to end."

"I have a very clear idea how this is going to end," Ginny stated.

"Not that end. I mean after. I want to know whether they talk about it, or whether they shout at each other, or whether one of them simply sneaks away."

"Hmm… want to have another bet?"

"All right. I say she sneaks away," Daphne said.

"And I say they scream at each other, she slaps him and runs away."

"For another five Galleons?"

"Sure," Ginny said in a tone of a person who doesn't have five Galleons but hopes to get it soon.

"All right. I suppose we will be here for a while longer then."

"Yeah."

---

Approximately fifteen minutes later, Ginny chanced a look over her shoulder. They had moved the armchairs around, so that now they sat with their backs towards the hole in the wall.

"Not yet," she blushed.

"And since that day Adrian has never touched a Chocolate Frog again," Daphne finished her story. "Hey, have I told you the one about Blaise's evil plan to get back on Hannah Abbot? The one with snowman?"

"No, I can't say you have. But please do."

After ten minutes Ginny was rolling on the floor laughing. Who could have guessed Slytherins were this funny? Or this stupid. The tale had been about Blaise turning himself into a snowman to eavesdrop on a conversation between Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot. The latter had turned him down the day before and as a Slytherin he wasn't going to let her get away with it. However, a snowman holding a wand had been a bit suspicious, although it was much better than a snowman without a wand (after Susan had taken it away from him, thinking someone must have forgotten it here, and carried it inside); at least from the snowman's point of view, who couldn't get in without melting, and couldn't turn himself back without his wand. In the end, Blaise had had to spend the night outside. As a snowman, it wasn't cold, but it had been damn boring.

"He did get back on Hannah, though," Daphne smiled.

"Your turn to look," Ginny ordered, once she had stopped laughing.

The Slytherin did look, and turned back with an unfathomable expression.

"They haven't left yet, have they?" Ginny worried.

"No, they haven't," she answered cryptically. "Are you sure you don't want to take any more pictures? _Witch Weekly _would pay a fortune for these."

Ginny took a peek through her fingers.

"I think Hermione is going to kill me."

"Yes, that is a possibility."

---

Half an hour later, when it was Daphne's turn again to look, she didn't glance away at once.

"I see movement," she announced happily.

Ginny choked on her lemonade.

"Not that kind of movement," her friend corrected. "The sneaking away kind of movement."

"Oooh!" Ginny exclaimed and turned to watch.

And indeed, Hermione was sneaking around the dungeon in search of her clothes.

"Aha!" Daphne said.

"Don't aha! me yet. She will start yelling any second now. I know it."

Hermione didn't start yelling. Instead she dressed as quickly as possible, and began to sneak out of the room.

"Aha!" Daphne said again.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up," Ginny muttered under her breath. "Wake up, Malfoy, and start yelling. I'll give you two Galleons if you wake up this moment."

"How can anyone sleep on the cold damp stone!" she exclaimed angrily as the last sight of Hermione was gone.

"He's not sleeping," Daphne beamed. "He's faking sleep."

"Hell he is!" Ginny shouted, then watched Draco open both his eyes and get up slowly.

"Haa!" Daphne smirked.

"Fine, fine," the redhead snapped in defeat. She didn't like to lose. Twice. In one day. "You'll get your money tomorrow. I don't have it with me right now."

"I know what will make you feel better," the Slytherin said in a sing-song voice, after Ginny had cleaned up the room with stabbing each foreign object (the carpet, the fireplace, and the armchairs she had conjured up before to make the room cozy and comfortable) with her wand as if there were centuries of blood-feud between them. The magical one-way hole in the wall received an especially murderous gaze before being taken down.

"What?" she grumbled.

"Let's have a talk with Draco."

Ginny stopped her furious mumbling, and thought about it.

"He is going to curse us."

"He doesn't have a wand."

"He is going to strangle us."

"We do have our wands."

"He will go ballistic."

"Of course."

"Let's go!" Ginny exclaimed and rushed to the door.

* * *

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	9. Why You Should Not Blackmail Gryffindors

**Disclaimer: **I don't own a bunny. I don't own a tiger. And I don't own Harry Potter. Capisce?

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

**_Chapter 9: Why You Should Never Blackmail Gryffindors_**

Ginny had to admit that Hermione had been sort of right calling him a white tiger – the way he stood in the middle of the dungeon, eyeing them carefully but not saying a word looked so much like a predator a second before leaping at its prey that she couldn't help but draw her wand and take a backwards step behind Daphne.

This was not being a coward. This was simply wishing to be alive till her wedding-day. (And after that, too, of course.)

"Hey, Draco," Daphne greeted him cheerfully, like a blind bunny in front of a wolf (or a tiger). "How are you doing?"

"Fine," he said, and his voice was strangely calm. Ginny, who was used to the loud and boiling anger of her brothers (especially Ron), would have almost let it trick her into false safety, had there not been the look in his grey eyes that promised not only to kill them, but to also hack into pieces and feed to a wolf (or a tiger).

"I see the spell has worn off," Daphne continued conversationally, while Ginny resisted the urge to run away and hide under the bed with all her courage, and pride, and stubbornness, and mostly the reluctance to turn her back to him.

A livid Ron was a daily occurrence. A livid Harry was possible to calm down with a few seductive looks and kisses. A livid Hermione was better to have as far as possible from oneself. But a livid Malfoy was better not to have at all.

"Yes, it did," he answered just as casually as the other Slytherin.

"I assume the experience wasn't totally unpleasant?" Daphne went a bit further.

"Just as unpleasant as being chained to a wall usually is."

"Usually? Does it happen to you often?"

Draco shrugged.

"So this time was just like all the other times?" she inquired.

"Well," he drawled. "There were the cookies."

"Oh, I see the plate is empty. Did you enjoy those cookies?"

"They were fine."

"Just fine?"

_Oh Merlin!_ Ginny thought. _If this is subtlety then kill me now. Or at least stupefy me._

A livid Draco was horrible beyond belief (or at least beyond her expectations). But hearing a livid Draco talk about his favourite cookies, and when he had last had them was unbearable. Livid people were not supposed to have a polite conversation about cookies, for crying out loud! They were supposed to be crying out loud at each other.

This kind of silent anger was not only dangerous, it was annoying as well.

"Oh, for the sake of pink sheep and flying anacondas!" Ginny exclaimed at last, cutting through the debate of coconut versus almond inside cookies.

"Malfoy knows we were here and saw the whole thing, and we know Malfoy knows we were here and saw the whole thing! I suppose subtlety can be nice and dandy and all that, but you got to draw a line somewhere. Somewhere way before coconut and almonds. Besides, maple syrup is the best."

Daphne and Malfoy were both looking at her as if she were crazy. She couldn't quite blame them.

"Maple syrup? In cookies?" Daphne was shocked.

"You **saw** the whole thing?" Draco asked, the very very very grim look on his face ruined only by his blush.

"Erm," Ginny said. It seemed Malfoy hadn't known they saw the whole thing after all. Well, if he didn't know it, then why in the name of Merlin's left sock was he that angry?

"Well, if you didn't know it, then why in the name of Merlin's left sock were you that angry?" Ginny accused.

"If you saw the whole thing do you really need to ask?"

Ginny thought about it for a moment. And then for another moment.

"Oh!" she exclaimed at last. "You were not so much angry at us but at Hermione for sneaking out like that, like you were nothing to her but a dirty little secret!"

"Ginny," Daphne spoke softly. "Shut up."

But Ginny was too zealous to stop just yet.

"That's it, isn't it? You did fake sleep, giving her the opportunity to sneak away, but you still hoped she would stay, didn't you?"

"Ginny, shut up!" Daphne whispered urgently.

"And that means you actually care for her, and with leaving she has broken your poor little heart."

"_Silencio_," Daphne said, pointing her wand at her friend. "Sorry about that – Gryffindors."

The last bit was meant to Malfoy, who nodded once in understanding.

"Anyway," she continued. "The deal is this – you have some pictures of Crabbe and Ginny, I have heard. I, on the other hand, have some pictures of you and Hermione. Now, you keep your pictures away from public eye, and we will do the same. Capisce?"

"Why are you helping a Gryffindor, Daphne?"

"Why are you loving a Gryffindor, Draco?"

"Why are you trying to set me up with a Gryffindor, Daphne?"

"I'm not, I simply wanted the pictures," she lied.

"But the answer," Daphne added after a moment. "Is one and the same. Gryffindors – you can't live with them, yet you can't live without them."

"I have managed to live without them perfectly fine, so far."

"Indeed," she smirked. "So far."

---

"Now why did you have to do that?" Ginny demanded to know once they were out of the dungeons and making their way towards the front doors of the manor.

"Because you started to babble."

"I do not babble!" she cried in indignation. (And in sheer joy to be able to cry again.)

"You should learn to be subtle."

"I can be subtle. You two were simply being ridiculous."

"No. I was simply trying to make him blurt out the truth," Daphne explained.

"Oh. Sorry."

"No matter," she said, getting into good spirits again. "He wouldn't have let it slip anyway. Besides, did you see the look on his face when you said we had seen it all? The last time he blushed that much was when my grand-aunt told him what a pretty girl he was."

"When was that?"

"A month ago."

Ginny halted in surprise.

"You aunt has a bad eyesight?"

"No, just a bad sense of humour. Although this time it was worth it – he's so cute when he blushes."

They had almost reached the door when Daphne suddenly turned away and dragged Ginny with her.

"Where are we going?" the redhead questioned.

"To check out the rooms for the school."

"Now?" Ginny asked incredulously. "When Malfoy's at home?"

"Sure thing. We're here already. And he's still in the dungeons wallowing in self-pity."

"Why?"

"Because you were right," Daphne answered simply. "She did break his heart."

---

Next morning, the pictures of Crabbe kissing Ginny were on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_.

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**Note: **I'm so evil, aren't I? Well, now you know what happened to those pictures. ;) **REVIEW!**


	10. Why You Should Not Blackmail Slytherins

**Disclaimer: **SNOW! SNOW! SNOW! Kmm, I mean, Harry Potter does not belong to me. SNOW!!!

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

**_Chapter 10: Why You Should Never Blackmail Slytherins_**

Ginny was furious. The news had hit them during breakfast, which she was sharing with Harry in their future home, having once again sneaked away from the chaos at the Burrow. Molly would not be too happy should she discover it, but she wouldn't discover it any time soon, being so caught up in a friendly debate with Fleur about the floral arrangements. Friendly in the sense of things flying around in the air. Ginny let them argue all they wanted, and in the evening when they had fallen away with exhaustion, she could take care of everything in peace.

But as it was, she was having a wonderful peaceful breakfast with her fiance, until the stupid owl had flown in with the stupid newspaper. Of course, at that time she hadn't known it yet. At that moment she had laughed when the owl had softly nibbled at her fingers. And there was still a smile on her face when she had reached for the paper.

Everything had been so nice and peaceful. But then came the _Daily Prophet_, and then came the yelling.

Although, she had to admit, most of the yelling had been done by her. She had reached for it first, and she had opened it first, and she had caught sight of the picture first. After a few moments of shocked glaring, Ginny had jumped to her feet, thrown the paper down, and started yelling. Most of it had been about a certain ferrety bastard, and all the things she was going to do to him in the very near future.

Harry had tried to calm her down for a while, then realized the hopelessness of the situation, and picked up the paper to see what all the fuss had been about. While she was still raving and ranting, Harry had read through the article under the picture.

And then he had silenced her. With a kiss, however, which was a lot better than Daphne's way, although she really wouldn't have appreciated Daphne kissing her (even though it would have definitely silenced her, for many long moments).

"Shh, calm down," he had whispered into her ear. "It's not that bad."

"Good for you to say," Ginny had argued angrily. "You are not being kissed by Crabbe at the front page of the _Daily Prophet_."

Harry hadn't been able to argue with that.

In the end, with the help of several more kisses, he had managed to calm her down, however, and she had told him all about how that picture had come to be. She had told him the truth. How it had all been Daphne's fault for dragging her to the party and then leaving her all alone with a roomful of Slytherins.

Harry had believed her of course, what's more, he had never doubted her at all. Oh, she was way too lucky to have him.

The article itself hadn't been as bad as it could have. It did hint to some sordid affair between her and Crabbe, but it had also toyed with the idea of Gryffindors warming up towards Slytherins, and old enemies becoming friends in the new and better world. Which was more or less true. And no sane person would ever consider the first option, Harry had assured her. After all, who in their right mind would turn to Crabbe if they had Harry Potter, the Hero of the Wizarding World, the Defeater of Voldemort, etc, etc?

Still, some people did, and those who didn't took it as a great chance to tease her, so that by lunchtime her anger towards Malfoy was back. And with it came the desire for revenge. The fact that she could do it so easily only amplified her wish.

There was one problem of course.

"Hi, Ginny," the problem greeted her and sat down to the table.

"Hey, Herms," she answered. "Seen the _Daily Prophet_ yet?"

"Yeah," she nodded slowly. "I take it you had no hand in that article?"

"Oh no, quite the opposite, Hermione. I had to plead them on my knees to put a picture of me and Crabbe kissing on the front page," she replied sarcastically.

"I thought so," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do you know who did it?"

"Yeah. The one and only – Draco Malfoy."

Hermione's head snapped up at hearing that name and her eyes narrowed. Thinking about it now, Ginny found it a bit odd that her friend had not confronted her about last evening, as she must have certainly realized her part in it.

Well, she still had time to bring it up. Like right now.

"Speaking of Malfoy…" Hermione began.

Here it comes.

"Is there something you would like to tell me about last night?"

Ginny made her best angelic face.

"I thought so," Hermione continued, but said no more.

One nanosecond before realizing the crystal clear truth, Ginny wondered why Hermione was not demanding an explanation from her, but then it became glaringly obvious – the very reason was glaring at her with Hermione's brown eyes. _You won't ask me about what happened, and I won't blame you for making it happen _was the deal she was offering her. Under normal circumstances Ginny would have never accepted – curiosity might have killed the cat, but unsatisfied curiosity drove Ginny, and everyone around her, nuts.

But this time she simply nodded in acceptance, and that for two reasons. One, she already knew what had happened, and two, she really needed to speak to Hermione. Yet she couldn't keep back one tiny question.

"Just tell me this," she made puppy-dog eyes. "Was it really that awful?"

"It could have been worse," was the only reply she got before Hermione rapidly changed the subject.

"The article wasn't that bad," she tried to comfort the redhead. "I'm surprised, actually, you seem to have got away pretty easy."

_Easy? Easy!!! I'll show you easy_, Ginny thought.

"Yes, well," she said out loud. "But the thing is that… that I have the opportunity to take revenge on him. Should I do it?"

Hermione stared at her for a while with a blank expression, then turned her head away. Ginny was about to take the question back, but then her friend averted her gaze back and struck her with a smirk so devilish that Ginny almost yelped in terror.

No, that was not a good sight. Hermione rarely smirked, and even less did she smirk devilishly, but once she did it, the effect was worse than a herd of rabid hippogriffs.

But then the smirk disappeared, and to any outsider, Hermione was back to her normal self.

"Of course," she said calmly. "Take your revenge. Just don't overdo it, and be prepared for him taking revenge for your revenge."

Too pleased to be shocked at her friend's odd thirst for vengeance, Ginny nodded enthusiastically – the next day was going to be a **good **one.

-----

**Note: **Too short? Not funny at all? I'll try to post the next one sooner. In the meantime, however, leave me a **REVIEW**

**_P.S. _**It snowed!!! I'm ecstatic. :D


	11. An Angry Lioness

**Note: **The snow melted. :( Anyway, this in an irregular update because the last two chapters have been rather short, but you still gave me wonderful reviews for them, so I feel you deserve it. So, my dear readers & reviewers, enjoy!

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**Disclaimer:** I still don't own "Harry Potter".**  
**

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**

**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 11: An Angry Lioness**_

Hermione considered herself a morning person. Of course, she was an evening person as well, and even a night person if the situation demanded it. But she loved mornings and waking up early. The grass still wet from the dew, the sun starting its journey across the sky, birds welcoming the new day with their song, everyone else still asleep. She loved the silence and emptiness of an early morning, loved to take a walk in the park without meeting anyone on her way, loved to have that one moment of peace and beauty for herself.

But today she had decided to pamper herself with a lie-in, feeling that she needed it. Having stayed late at work the previous evening to keep herself from thinking back, and having stayed up most of the night thinking back, she hoped a good long rest would make things easier. And at least she couldn't think while sleeping.

It was the most leisurely state of being half-asleep half-awake that Hermione was enjoying when all of a sudden two people stormed into her bedroom and began to yell. Not what she would have called a good start of the morning.

She tried to ignore them at first, but it wasn't too easy to dive back into the waves of slumber when two people were screaming at the top of their lungs three steps away from her. Angry at getting such a rude wake-up call, Hermione sat up on her bed and brushed the sleep away from her eyes, focusing on the intruders.

Figures. Who else would even think about coming to her apartment to scream their heads off at her?

"Good morning, Ron, Harry," she told them in a loud voice, sounding just as grumpy as anyone would upon having their two best friends disrupting their sleep with an incessant stream of yelling.

The boys stopped for a moment, taking in the fact of her being awake, then got back to their earlier activity. If she concentrated enough, she was able to catch words like 'enemy', 'evil', and 'pancake', but she wasn't that sure about the last one.

"All right, what is the fuss all about?" she asked at last when Ron and Harry were furiously mouthing at her, not letting the fact of being voiceless hinder them in the least. "And speak normally, and one at the time."

When the boys finally nodded after some good three minutes worth of silent yelling, she took the spell off, and let them speak.

"What is this, Hermione?" Ron demanded, waving something frantically in front of her face.

"It looks like the _Daily Prophet _to me," she answered calmly.

"Not the paper," Harry snapped. "The picture, Hermione, what is the picture about?"

"What picture?"

Ron waved the paper before her face again, until she finally grabbed it from him, and glanced at the front page. And glared at it for a while longer.

"Hermione?" Harry became impatient when she didn't answer.

"I think," she said slowly, weighing her words before saying them, "that you already know what this picture is about. Otherwise you wouldn't be here shouting at me right now."

But the boys could not appreciate sarcasm at a time like this.

"Hermione!" Ron reverted back to good old yelling. "Why is there a picture of you and Malfoy kissing on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_?"

"Because it makes the paper sell better when something scandalous is on its first page instead of seventh."

"But why is there a picture of you and Malfoy kissing in the _Daily Prophet_?!!!"

"Because it makes the paper sell better when there is something scandalous in it."

"Why is there a picture of you and Malfoy kissing in the first place???"

"Because someone took a photo."

Seeing Ron getting nowhere, Harry joined in.

"But, Hermione, why in the name of Merlin's earwax would you kiss Malfoy at all?"

Now that question wasn't so easy to answer anymore. Well, it was, but she knew better than to tell them that he had just looked so sexy in those chains and tasted simply delicious. No spell would stop their yelling then.

So Hermione thought quickly. She had to tell them an explanation they would believe and accept, but when the thing itself was kissing (and passionately, mind you) one of their greatest enemies, finding an acceptable explanation wasn't a piece of cherry pie.

"What was the article about?" she asked to buy some time.

Ron shrugged, clearly not having paid any attention to anything else but the photo.

"Some rubbish about a new and better world where enemies become friends, blah-blah-blah," Harry explained.

"So basically the same that Ginny's article?"

"Yes," Harry replied slowly, catching the drift of her mind. "But you can't tell me he simply ambushed you and took the picture. This kiss is nothing like the one between Ginny and Crabbe. This kiss is—" Harry shuddered, "—passionate."

But Hermione could have cared less about the suddenly greenish hue of Harry's face when most unwelcome thoughts speeded through his mind. She had just got an idea.

It was rather preposterous, but it could just as well work.

Didn't they say that the best lie was telling the truth? No, they didn't because that made no sense. But truth was what she had decided to tell them.

"It's revenge," she explained. "Malfoy took those pictures of Ginny and published them, now we took pictures of him in a compromising position and got them published. Not only does it take public interest and attention off Ginny's article, and let you two live in peace, it also shows Malfoy not to mess with us. So it might be a bit weird for me to be kissing my enemy, but think about what it would mean for him – kissing a Muggle-born Gryffindor?"

It took some time and persuasion, but at last Ron and Harry realized how much worse the situation was for Malfoy, and promised their full support to Hermione about the matter.

Uhh, that had been close. Now there was just one more thing to take care of.

---

Malfoy might have been a white tiger, but this was an angry lioness glaring at her from the other side of table, Ginny thought.

She began to wonder why on earth she had agreed to meet with her very angry friend in the first place when hiding and ignoring seemed a much better idea; then she remembered she had been doing exactly that when Hermione had marched straight into her hiding place. Damn the girl was way too smart!

"Have you seen Ron today?" Ginny asked casually, trying to look as innocent as a little fluffy kitten with big round blue eyes (not a very easy thing to do when your eyes happen to be brown). "He left the breakfast table in such a hurry he didn't even finish his pancakes."

_Oh, so that's why I heard pancakes being mentioned_, Hermione thought, but didn't let herself get distracted.

"In fact, I did," she replied in a dangerous tone. "I was having a wonderful lie-in this morning when your dear brother and dear fiance came to my bedroom and started yelling at me."

"Oh," Ginny said, making a mental note to kick Ron's ass should Hermione kick hers. But no, Hermione didn't like violence. After all, who would need to get their hands dirty if they knew all those spells.

"I suppose I should have warned you," she admitted.

"Yes, you should have."

"I suppose I should have asked your permission first as well," she added.

"Yes, you should have."

"I suppose I should have never published those photos in the first place."

"No, that was all right."

"I suppose I should have… wait a second," she paused with a feeling of something being not right. "Did you just say it was all right I published those photos?"

"Yes," Hermione smirked. "You got your revenge. I don't mind that."

Ginny heaved a sigh of relief and silently thanked Merlin, Morgana, and great aunt Muriel for getting away alive and unhurt.

"You got me really worried," she smiled. "I mean, Malfoy might be a white tiger, but you looked a lot like an angry lioness just a moment ago."

"And I don't anymore?"

"Well, you said you didn't mind…" her smile died at the look in the lioness' eyes.

"I said I didn't mind you publishing those photos. But I never said what I thought of you **taking** those photos."

---

_From a lion's cave to the tiger cage_, Ginny thought, knocking on the door of the tiger cage.

It swung open before her, but instead of a helpful house elf, she found herself face to face with the tiger himself. The angry tiger, mind you, who grew even angrier at the sight of his visitor.

Ginny tried to look cool and confident.

"Hello, Draco. Nice day, isn't it?" she asked with a smile.

"What do you want?" he growled.

"My, my, aren't we a bit grumpy this fine afternoon. I can't see why – the weather is warm, the sun is shining, the birds are singing… what a wonderful day of spring."

"I ask you again, what do you want, Weasley?" he didn't seem to be in the mood for subtlety. That was good.

"I was simply asked to deliver a message," she spoke, taking out the envelope and handing it to him.

He frowned but took it, frowned but opened it, frowned but read it through.

Then, without a warning, he drew his wand, and petrified her on the spot.

---

"My nose itches," Ginny whined.

"Touch luck," Draco sneered and left the room.

Ginny tested the chains. They held.

A plate of cookies was placed in front of her, yet definitely out of reach.

_Damn_, she thought and wrinkled her nose, hoping to get rid of the itch.

Much, much later, when she felt bored to death, the dungeon door opened again, and in walked a rather miserable looking Daphne followed by a devilishly grinning Draco.

"You, too, eh?" the Slytherin girl shot her a knowing look.

Ginny nodded and watched her friend share her destiny.

Malfoy was still in the room, when the door opened yet again, revealing none other than Hermione.

"Hermione!" Ginny cried. "Get me out of here. Or at least, scratch my nose."

Hermione paused, and seemed to be considering that idea.

"I think not," she said in the end. "I think it would do you good staying here for a while."

"But… but…" Ginny was a bit too shocked (and itchy) to think right. "I though you forgave me. I mean the letter, and everything, and…"

"The letter, my dear," the lioness smirked, "simply gave my white tiger instructions of what to do with you. I had to make a detour to collect your other half, but now that you're both here…"

With that Hermione took a gizmo out of her pocket and placed it upon the cookie table.

"What's that?" Ginny asked with curiosity.

"A simple tape recorder," she shrugged. "Holds a message from your dear brother."

"Ron?" she frowned. "You mean he is together with you on this thing?"

"Of course not," Hermione said. "I had to convince him for half an hour this morning that there is nothing between Draco and me. Asking him to join us while we torture his sister doesn't really seem like a good idea."

Looking her victims over, the lioness swept out of the room, only to halt on the threshold and look back.

"Draco, take the cookies with you, all right?"

Ginny could not see Hermione's face while she said that, but she did see Malfoy blush, take the cookie plate, and hurry out.

But before the redhead could start to ponder about the strangeness of this, a loud voice boomed out of the gizmo.

"This is the song that never ends.  
Yes, it goes on and on, my friend,  
Some people started singing it not knowing what it was,  
And they'll continue singing it forever just because,  
This is the song that never ends.

Yes, it goes on and on, my friend,  
Some people started singing it not knowing what it was,  
And they'll continue singing it forever just because,  
This is the song that never ends…"

The screams of Ginny and Daphne would have sounded to the ends of earth, had Hermione not been clever enough to Silence the dungeon.

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**Disclaimer #2: **In case you wonder, that never ending song isn't mine either.

**Note #2: **Liked the chapter? Were glad to get a glimpse of Ron? Are happy not to be in Daphne and Ginny's situation? Liked the revenge? Think I'm really, really evil? Well, whatever you think, tell me about it in your **REVIEW**


	12. Do pigs fly? What about cows?

**Disclaimer: ** Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. But the Cow Song is all mine. :D 

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 12: Do pigs fly? What about cows?**_

Ginny had decided to let their _Oh – Romance! _plan rest in peace for a while. Usually she didn't like backing away from her resolutions, but this time she was ready to make an exception, and that for two reason. First, Hermione and Draco didn't seem to be in need of another push, and second, she never wanted to meet that angry lioness ever again.

And so the chaos-cooking duo redirected all their effort into Pigwarts once again. With little to no trouble they had managed to convince Neville and Susan, both of whom were rather excited about the opportunity to teach in a brand new wizarding school. Ginny would have gladly taken care of Terry and Dean, as well, but Daphne kept insisting they would be left to her. Then Ginny had argued that that would leave no one else for her to persuade, but Daphne had managed to prove her wrong on that as well.

Which had brought her to another dance floor of another party, this time at the house of Millicent Bulstrode. A couple of days ago the prospect of trying to convince a bunch of Slytherins into teaching at Pigwarts would have sounded way too perilous to her, but after the Singing-Ron-Torture it felt as safe as a vault in Gringotts. In fact, danger had obtained a completely different meaning, and was mainly associated with a girl with brown eyes, bushy hair, and a love for books. A roomful of Slytherins was a piece of cherry pie compared to that. Besides, they were good dancers.

It was when Ginny had danced herself breathless and was about to bring up the subject of Pigwarts, when Millicent's voice rang over the hall.

"Game Time!!!"

Everyone stopped their present activities, and moved to sit down by the fireplace. Ginny was about to claim an utterly comfortable looking armchair when someone grabbed her arm and pulled her down to the utterly comfortable carpet on the floor.

"I think it's only fair," Millicent said by her side, putting more than enough emphasis on the word _fair_, "that our newest member receives the honour of naming the game and its rules."

Ginny realized at once they were talking about her, but didn't let it, or the hidden meaning behind it, intimidate her one bit. In fact, this was her chance to get what she wanted. Oh, those poor Slytherins, they had no idea what they were getting themselves into.

But not to make them suspicious, she tried to look a bit confused and bewildered, careful not to overdo it because a lion in the serpents' nest would not show its weaknesses (fake or otherwise) too easily.

"All right," she spoke with a shrug. "Truth or Dare, then."

The people around her hardly managed to conceal their grins, which made it harder for Ginny to conceal hers.

"All right, people, you heard her," Millicent smirked. "Let's start."

"One more moment," the Gryffidor said. "One more rule – everything we speak about stays solely between us."

If she had expected them to protest, she would have been wrong. Instead, their smirks only widened.

"Slytherin's honour," Adrian said, holding up his hand.

"Do I look like an idiot to you?" Ginny demanded.

"No?" he ventured after a deliberately long pause.

"That's right," Ginny nodded. "I want a vow. A magical vow."

The people around her looked like they had run out of evil grins to suppress. _That's right_, she thought, _you have no idea whom you are dealing with._

---

It was a beautiful day for playing Quidditch, and that was what Dean was doing at the moment. It was also a beautiful day for watching Quidditch, and that was what most of the audience was doing at the moment.

"Goal!" Dean cried and made a victory zig-zag on his broom. They were doing great at the moment, and they were still doing great after half an hour when the Chaser of the opposite team had taken a bad hit from the Bludger, and then an even worse hit from the ground, and the game had been suspended while the mediwitch took care of him.

Dean was hovering in the air, going through the best strategies in his mind, and already imagining their victory party, when one of his teammates poked him into the shoulder.

"What?" he was wakened from his thoughts.

"Someone seems to be looking for you," the other boy grinned, and pointed to the pitch below…

…where a girl was sitting on the grass and waving up to him. That was not unusual, although more than often his fangirls were screaming and jumping like maniacs (or monkeys) instead of sitting calmly. And more than often the security would remove them at once; this time, however, no one even made a move to approach the girl (because it's rather hard to make a move when one is paralyzed).

Curious, Dean zoomed down to her.

"Hey!" Daphne smiled and waved to him again.

Once he had recognized her, which wasn't so easy as this time she was dressed in shawls only – one around her waist filling the place of a skirt, another round her chest substituting a shirt, and the third wrapped round her head hiding her face – which still failed to make her look like Trelawney. The colours were green and silver, of course, and that helped him greatly with placing her.

"Oh, hi," he replied to her greeting rather unenthusiastically.

"Can I talk to you?" the girl asked.

"Now is not a good time," he said, realizing he didn't have to lie. "I am in the middle of something right now."

"After the game then?" she insisted.

"I suppose," he shrugged, having no intention whatsoever to grant her wish.

"See you later then," Daphne beamed, and waved him goodbye, yet instead of leaving the pitch, she lied down on the grass, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the warm spring sunshine.

"Who was she?" Phil asked once Dean had made it back to the heights.

"Just somebody," he spoke indifferently, and watched the injured-no-more opponent get back onto his broom.

"She's rather hot," Phil remarked, as he followed Dean towards the Quaffle, being a Chaser himself.

"Yes, but I wouldn't recommend. Too clingy, as you might notice. Had a go with her some days ago, but she's a Slytherin and you know they are all…"

"They are all what?" Phil asked, and when no answer came, averted his gaze from the Quaffle, and turned it to the cow by his side.

Something was definitely wrong with the sight, he realized.

For one thing, cows did not fly. And even if they did, they did not fly on brooms. And even if they did that, as this was exactly what the cow beside him was doing, they **did not** play Quidditch.

After a moment, Phil realized why cows didn't play Quidditch or fly on brooms longer than about ten seconds. The brooms had been built to hold human weight, and cows just happened to be a bit heavier.

The cow let out a desperate Mooo! as the broom finally realized what Phil had realized a second ago, and plummeted towards the ground.

---

Ginny was silent for a while.

"Gold and ivory," she said at last, in answer to Crabbe's question of Truth about her favourite colour.

He graced her with a stupid grin, and she smiled back.

"All right, Millicent, Truth or Dare?"

"Truth!" the girl practically growled at her, still red in the face from those 20 laps the Gryffindor had made her run around the house.

"Was Snape your first crush?" Ginny asked as innocently as she could.

If their hostess had been red before, she turned burgundy now, a colour Ginny had only seen on Ron.

"Where on earth did you get the idea of **me** having a crush on **Snape**?" she managed to choke out.

"Did you?" she asked with the same angelic smile and expression.

"Do pigs fly?"

"Yes, they do," Ginny replied calmly, and drawing her wand conjured up a little pink pig with white wings hovering above Millicent's head.

"And speaking of pigs…" she added, ignoring the shocked silence of a bunch of evil little serpents who were just beginning to realize they were dealing with a mongoose in lion's skin.

---

"Moo," said the cow, as Daphne led it off the Quidditch pitch. There had been a lot of mooing before, when it had reached the ground with something quite similar to a splash, and later got fixed by a rather reluctant mediwitch ("I'm not a vet!" – "Yes, but look how pathetic it looks, all flat and squashed." – "Moo!").

"I'm sorry," she said. "But it was all your fault, really, running away before I could tell you about Pigwarts."

"Moo?"

"I'm going to tell you everything. After all, there's nothing else I can do for you right now."

"Moo, moo."

"No, sorry. I don't know the counter-spell. Perhaps it wears off after a while."

"Moo!!!"

"Relax. If it doesn't, I'll just ask Ginny."

"Moo?"

"Yes, we're on the same Hippogriff here. Figuratively speaking."

"Moo."

"Do you like mushrooms?"

"Moo?"

"It's just this little song I know,

"Moo, moo, moo, said the cow, said the cow,  
Moo, moo, moo, said the cow, said the cow,  
Moo, moo, moo, moo, I like mushrooms,  
Said the cow, said the cow."

"Moo."

"Yes, well, you can take me out sometimes, and then we see whether you like them or not," Daphne winked.

"Moo," said the cow.

"Good," said the girl, then cast her companion a concerned look. "I don't need to milk you, do I?"

"MOO!!!"

"No need to use that tone. Last time you didn't seem to mind."

"MOO!!!" said the cow and blushed.

Daphne sniggered.

"I'd better tell you the story then."

---

Later, when they were back in their usual café eating chocolate cake, Daphne could not help but remark,

"Ginny, your hair?"

"Yes, what about it?" the other girl asked.

"Nothing. I just couldn't help but notice that it's… crawling."

"Just tried to experiment a little," Ginny shrugged, pushing a couple of snakes out of her eyes.

"You know," she added after a while. "I couldn't help but notice…"

"Notice what?" Daphne asked.

"That there's a cow sitting beside you."

"Oh, that," the brunette made a nonchalant wave with her hand. "Just decided to get myself a pet."

"Moo," said the cow.

-----

**Note: **When my beta first read about the CowVow, she said she dearly hoped that someone in this story will be turned into a cow. Now, someone has. :D Heh, I like this chapter. I hope you do, too. :)

**REVIEW**


	13. How To Steal Forbidden Forest

**HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!**

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**Disclaimer: **Everything Harry Potterish belongs to J. K. Rowling. Treble Double You belongs to Genetic Island. Else is probably mine.**  
**

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

**_Chapter 13: How To Steal Forbidden Forest_**

Perhaps angering a Giant was not the best idea, but Daphne couldn't care any less. She didn't give a damn whether Grawp was angry, or livid, or about to crush her in three and a half seconds, as long as he let her drag him away.

Which he didn't. And dragging away a Giant that doesn't want to come was too much even for Daphne, although she did try.

"Why, Grawp, baby? Why can't you come?" she pleaded, wondering whether a wheelbarrow would do her any good.

"Hagger told Grawp watch forest. Grawp watch forest till Hagger come back. Grawp good brother. Grawp no baby. Grawp big!"

"And heavy," she added, looking sadly at what had been such a pretty blue lawn cart before.

"But Grawp, darling, there is some forest there as well. You can watch that as much as you like."

"Hagger told Grawp watch this forest. Grawp watch this forest. Grawp go nowhere without this forest."

Daphne thought about it.

"But what if we take this forest with us?" she offered.

The Giant was silent for a long time.

"Grawp watch forest," he spoke at last. "Grawp go away. Forest go with Grawp. Grawp watch forest. Grawp take a tree. Little girl take a tree?"

"I like trees," Daphne smiled. "But it will take some time carrying all the trees there one by one. And you can't watch the forest while you are away."

"Grawp no leave. Grawp watch forest. Little girl take all trees?"

Daphne nodded very slowly and calculatingly.

"Yes, I think I will."

Waving bye-bye to Grawp, Daphne continued her way along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, stopping after every ten steps, shooting thin glowing orange sticks from the tip of her wand into the ground, and connecting them with a magical purple fiber.

"Much easier than carrying all the trees one by one," she spoke contentedly.

---

"Hello, anybody home?" Ginny peaked into the empty room. The door had been locked, and this time really locked with a spell she couldn't break open, and didn't want to try either. But this time, she just happened to have a key.

"Oh brothers of mine, where areth thou?"

The only thing that greeted her was silence, and it wasn't even the we're-in-hiding-and-going-to-pour-you-over-with-some-smelly-goo kind of silence. This time it was the we're-somewhere-else-doing-something-better type of silence.

Closing the door behind her, Ginny walked past the shelves. Usually for the oh brothers of her, 'doing something better somewhere else' meant blowing things up in the back rooms.

He was so quiet and imperceptible that hadn't he spoken out, she would have never noticed him there.

"What can I do for you, Miss?" a tired voice asked her politely. "Perhaps you would be interested in our newest product – Treble Double You? Perfect solution for busy days, you will be able to do six times as much as before, or be in six different places at a time, or simply prank your friends into thinking they are crazy."

"Erm," she said, pretty sure **she** was going crazy. There, at the counter was standing a man looking remarkable like Filch, except for the bright red bow tie and green top hat he was wearing.

"Erm… Mr. Filch?" Ginny couldn't help but ask, more than certain he would answer in negative and/or remove his mask and become Fred. (Or George.)

The man did neither. Instead he smiled, and not one bit evilly, in fact, in a rather friendly way.

"That is my name, Miss. Do I know you?"

"Filch?" she repeated incredulously. "Argus Filch? Caretaker at the School of Hogwarts?"

"The same."

"But… but… but… oh, stop joking, Fred! Or George. I know it's you!"

"Mister Weasleys aren't here now. But I can give them a message from you, Miss, if you'd be so kind to tell me your name."

"Oh Merlin's third eyeball! It can't be…" Ginny whispered in horror.

"Oh, but it is!" a menacing voice called out from behind her back, and after a moment she was poured over with something sweet and sticky. That was red and smelled like raspberries.

"That was not very nice of you," Filch shook his head, his mild voice almost inaudible due to the loud sinister cackling.

"Oh, but the girl is so sweet now, isn't she?" the culprit called, and moving around the jam-covered Ginny, came to hover before her face.

"Peeves!"

"The one and only!" the poltergeist grinned and bowed down before her.

"But… what are you doing here, Peeves? And what is Filch doing here? And where are Fred and George?"

Saying that, Ginny vaguely recalled reading something like this from a certain red log journal. What she didn't remember, however, was the reason for her coming here in the first place, which was recruiting Filch and Peeves for Pigwarts. But seeing the nasty caretaker smiling at her in red bow tie and green top hat had wiped a large part of her brain sparklingly clean.

---

"Perhaps it wasn't that great a plan," Daphne panted, sitting down on a rock to rest. The Forbidden Forest wasn't quite as small as she had thought it would be, or perhaps she wasn't quite as quick as she had thought herself to be.

"Perhaps carrying the trees one by one **would** have been faster."

"Moo!" said the cow.

"Stupid thought, I know," Daphne sighed. And sighed again, just for the dramatic effect of the situation.

"Moo," said the cow.

"Do you need to be milked now?" she asked without raising her head. Judging by the mooing, she had a pretty good idea whom she was talking to.

"MOO!!!"

"No? You sure, girl?"

"MOO!!! MOO!!! MOO!!!"

"What?" Daphne looked up, and caught the cow's reproachful glare.

"Well, true. But you certainly are a girl now. Take it as an opportunity to get in touch with your feminine side."

"Moo."

"Oh, don't give me that look. You heard what Ginny said. Once you have been forgiven, the spell will end."

"Moo?"

"I'm still mad at you. It wasn't nice what you did to me. And to all those other girls."

"Moo."

"I've got to go now. Bye," Daphne said, got up, and continued her way.

"Moo!"

"What?" she snapped and wheeled around, pointing her wand at the cow.

"Moo," the cow explained patiently and nudged her.

"You can't be serious!"

"Moo!" the cow insisted.

"Oh, very well then," Daphne gave in to the pleadings of her painful feet, and climbed onto the cow.

---

The jam was rather good, Ginny had to admit, as she licked her arms while listening to Peeves' story about the tragic end of Filch and Mrs. Norris. Well, the tragic end of their relationship, anyway, as both of them were very alive, and one of them still smiling politely at Ginny.

The basic concept of the tale was her breaking his heart and leaving.

That's what Peeves had been talking about the last fifteen minutes, and by the look of it, he wasn't going to stop anytime soon, at least not for something other than evil cackling.

If Ginny had remembered her plan to get Peeves into Pigwarts, she would have begun to wonder why exactly had she wanted to do that. But as it was, she didn't remember, and switched to licking her other arm instead.

---

"Good cow," Daphne patted it on its back, finally connecting the last pole to the first. The last hours had been rather tiring for both the cow and the cowgirl, but they had still managed to uphold a conversation, discussing things like politics and favourite books.

"Moo," said the cow, lying down to rest.

"And now for the second part…" Daphne said, raising her wand. For a moment she stared at it, then at the forest, and then at the cow.

"I suppose you can't hold a wand too easily?"

"Moo."

"That's too bad. I really liked you."

"Moo?!!"

"_Forgiveness saves you from the vow  
And no longer you'll be cow_."

"Moo," said the cow.

"Hmm, that was supposed to work."

"Moo."

"I don't know… _Finite Incantatem_."

"Moo."

"Oh well, be my moral support then," the girl shrugged, and pointed her wand back towards the forest.

"_Nüüd sa oled suur_," she spoke the first part of the incantation and waved with the wand. "_Aga nüüd sa oled väike!_"

Much to Daphne's surprise the spell worked, and after a blinding flash of orange, where there had been a forest before, there was a forest now.

Inside a small glass orb.

She picked it up.

"Nifty, isn't it?" she commented, dropping the tiny ball into her pocket.

"Moo," said the cow.

---

**Note: **

_Nüüd sa oled suur_ - Now you are big

_Aga nüüd sa oled väike_ - But now you are small

Initially, I was going to change Dean back in this chapter, but I decided I like him better as a cow. :P

**MOO! **I mean, **REVIEW!**


	14. How To Lose Forbidden Forest

**Note: **I'll tell you about my wonderful plan of getting this story done with 20 chapters. First, there will be one more chapter centered around Pigwarts and tying up most loose ends. Then there will be one or two chapters mostly about Hermione&Draco, and the last chapters will be dedicated to Harry&Ginny's wedding. Pigwarts is going to be mentioned (almost) in every chapter, but only the next will be all about it. Which means it would be nice if you told me what other aspects of Pigwarts would you like me to write about. :)

Of course, all good plans tend to go awry. :P

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**Disclaimer: **Just because both Harry Potter and Heptagon start with an H doesn't mean I own it. ;)

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 14: How To Lose Forbidden Forest**_

Ginny was drawing a bee. But not just any bee. Ginny was drawing a Weaselbee. She had already finished Malfly and Hermiowlie, and had still to create a lovely Phottonix. Although she was also toying with the idea of a Squharriel, if only to make him wear Colin on regular bases. And **that** sounded weird even to herself. Oh well.

She was in the middle of colouring the Weaslebee's wings yellow, when a characteristic thump by her side indicated Daphne's arrival (and she **would** have recognized it even without the much louder thump, and screaming of people who wanted milk in their tea, not cow).

Ginny continued her masterpiece, though, waiting for the other girl to start talking. The fact that she didn't alerted the Gryffindor of probable trouble. With a grin, she pushed the parchment away. Nothing was better than probable trouble. Especially when it happened to someone else.

"Yes?" she turned to her accomplice. "What's wrong?"

"Oh!" Daphne exclaimed with a smile. "Nothing. I'm fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine…"

All those 'fines'became softer and softer, the one before the last spoken in mere whisper, and the last nothing more than a movement of lips.

"You echo," Ginny stated.

"Oh! Sorry about that, that, that, that, that, that…"

"You still echo. But no worries, it sounds rather cool for now, although it's destined to become hellishly annoying later. So, what happened?"

"Well," Daphne began rather cheerfully. "Something really horrible."

"Yes?" Ginny prompted her curiously.

"I stole the Forbidden Forest!" she announced.

The Gryffindor stared at her for a while, trying to decide whether she should ask for an explanation, or whether it would make her look stupid. In the end she chose not to ask; after all, she could figure it all out by herself.

As it was, people stole things, and Daphne was counted among people (no matter how hard they protested); therefore Daphne stole things. The Forbidden Forest was a thing (a huge thing with lots of trees, Centaurs, spiders, unicorns, and other magical creatures, but still a thing), therefore Daphne could steal it.

The 'how' could be answered very simply, as well – there was this little thing called magic, after all. The 'why' was a bit more tricky, but she hoped the Slytherin would tell her that even without her asking.

"Oh?" the redhead said at last, acting as if things like that happened every day. Recently they did.

"Yes. And that's great. Because now that Grawp can still keep an eye on the forest, he will be happy to join us."

"Oh!"

"But then the horrible terrible just downright awful thing happened!" Daphne explained with a bright smile.

"Yes?"

"I lost the Forbidden Forest."

Ginny tried to apply the same logic, starting with 'people lost things' but decided it was not good to overuse it.

"You lost the Forbidden Forest?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes. Or… if the word 'lost' causes you anxiety and distress, feel free to use the term 'misplaced' instead."

"You misplaced the Forbidden Forest?" she reworded her question.

"Yes."

"Where did you misplace it?"

"Well," Daphne began. "If I knew where I misplaced it, I could go back there and un-misplace it, then go and place it to the right spot. As it is, I don't know where I misplaced it."

"You lost an entire forest without even noticing it?"

Daphne had the grace if not to blush then at least look slightly abashed.

"Yes."

"But it's big," Ginny couldn't help but mention. "I mean, it's a forest. It's big. Huge. Colossal. Great. Enormous. And all that."

"It was big," the Slytherin corrected. "But then I shrunk it."

"You shrunk an entire forest!" the redhead exclaimed in wonder. "All by yourself! That's powerful magic!"

"Not quite all by myself," Daphne admitted, turning to the cow. "Dean helped."

"Moo," said the cow.

Ginny stared at it.

"How can a cow help you shrink a forest? And why in Merlin's pink underwear is he still a cow?"

"Moral support. And your spell did not work."

"Of course my spells work!" Ginny exclaimed indignantly.

"It might work now, but it didn't work then. As you may see."

"Moo," said the cow.

"Are you sure you said it right? And are you sure you really forgave him?" Ginny inquired.

"Yes for both."

"Perhaps you forgave him consciously, but not **sub**consciously. There is a difference," she said wisely.

"Yeah," the other girl agreed. "Consciously doesn't have a sub in front of it."

"But," Daphne went on, "I really don't see what the big thing is here. I mean, there is really no reason for me to be angry with him, with sub or without it. I'm more than used to getting rejected for being a Slytherin, or for being crazy, or for being a crazy Slytherin. It stopped bothering me a long time ago."

"Ah, but perhaps you only thought it stopped bothering you," Ginny stated with her best Freudish expression, which was a fantastic try from someone who had never seen nor heard anything about Freud ever before.

"Or perhaps it's you who can't forgive him," Daphne countered.

"Me? I have nothing to do with this."

"Oh, sure you do. Didn't you use to date him at one time? Perhaps you're jealous?"

"Jealous! Me!" Ginny exclaimed. "I'm going to marry Harry in less than two weeks."

"So?" Daphne argued. "It didn't stop you from kissing Crabbe on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_."

Her Gryffindor friend let out a loud gasp.

"Even if I still liked Dean," she growled. "Why should I be jealous? He dumped you."

"You're right, he did," Daphne answered calmly. "But he follows **me** now, not you."

"That's only because he wants you to change him back."

"Oh, I don't know. I think he rather enjoys being a cow. Less pressure."

Both girls looked simultaneously at the subject of their talk.

"Moo," said the cow.

"Although," Daphne added, "he's still a bit shy about milking."

"Moo!" said the cow.

When they both turned away after a couple of moments, Ginny frowned in thought.

"What were we talking about?"

"About me stealing the Forbidden Forest. And then misplacing it."

"Okay. Well, we just have to find it then. Where did you go between stealing it and noticing you have misplaced it?"

"First there was this meeting of CIA, Crumple-horned International Association. There was Nils Nilsson there, and Per Persson," she spoke with enthusiasm and energetic gestures, the meaning of which, if they had one, Ginny didn't know.

"And what was the point of it?" she asked instead, a bit apprehensive, as if not sure whether she really wanted to know or not.

"It's all about Crumple-horned Snorcacks, and other such things. But that's not the point. The point is that Nils Nilsson is single. And handsome. And tall. And looks like some ancient God. And then of course, Per Persson…" Daphne ended her sentence there, but gave a sigh which said more than hundred words, although the Slytherin wasn't usually one to sigh like that, or let pass an opportunity to rant and rave.

Of course, there was one more thing bothering Ginny.

"How many Nils Nilssons were there?" she inquired. "Is it some kind of a requirement that you can only join CIA when that's your name? I mean, if there was one per person…"

Daphne stared at her for a moment like she was crazy. Then she screwed up her face like she was crazy herself. In the end she burst out laughing, not refuting the idea of her being insane. But that was no news to Ginny, although she wouldn't have minded hearing about the joke so that she could join in.

"No," Daphne spoke at last, breathless. "There was not a Nils Nilsson per person. There was this one guy, rather yummy, called Nils Nilsson, and then there was this other guy, rather delicious as well, called Per Persson. And then there were a bunch of other people, but they were either all female, old, or married. Or all three."

"I'd choose Nils Nilsson if I were you," Ginny advised, "you wouldn't want to be called Mrs. Per Persson after all, do you?"

"You might be right," Daphne added.

"Moo," said the cow, and there was something about its way and tone which told that it didn't think much of both Swedes. No matter how sweet they might have looked.

"So there was the meeting of CIA. Anything else?" Ginny wondered.

"I went to see Charming Terry Boot."

"And were you Charmed?"

"By that porridge-face?" Daphne exclaimed. "He was polite and everything, but you know what they say. Once a porridge-face, always a porridge-face."

"That happened ages ago," Ginny protested. "And it was an accident. You can't dislike him just because he fell asleep at breakfast table one morning and fell into his porridge."

"He did? So that's way Draco was calling him a porridge-face," Daphne realized. "I thought it referred to his unstylish high-and-mighty attitude."

"And he is of course the best person accusing someone for being high-and-mighty," the redhead muttered.

"Not high-and-mighty," Daphne corrected. "Tastelessly high-and-mighty. There is a difference."

"Yes. One has tastelessly in front of it, and the other doesn't," Ginny agreed.

"Moo," said the cow, and it was glaringly obvious it didn't think too highly of Terry Boot either.

"If I didn't know better," the Gryffindor stated, tilting her head towards the black-and-white animal, "I'd say Dean here is jealous."

"Moo!" the cow protested and blushed.

"Aww, that's so sweet!" Daphne smiled at it, making it blush and moo again.

"Cut it out!" Ginny snapped her fingers in front of her accomplice's face to get her attention. "Back to that lost, no, misplaced Forbidden Forest part. Couldn't we just _Accio_ it back, wherever it is?"

"_Accio_ Forbidden Forest?" Daphne tried out the sound of it. "But what if it only _accio_'s the forest and not the glass ball?"

"So?"

"It's only small **inside** that ball."

"I see what you mean," Ginny nodded, thinking how it would be like if the whole big, huge, colossal, great, enormous forest was flying towards them. "_Accio_ the glass ball that has Forbidden Forest inside it?"

"What if there are more then one of such glass balls?" Daphne was concerned.

"Did you make copies of it?"

"No, but…"

"How about _accio _the glass ball into which Daphne Dolcetta Greengrass put the Forbidden Forest that grew beside the ruins of Hogwarts to be able to lure Grawp into Malfoy Manor where she and Ginevra Molly Weasley, soon to be Potter, are founding a new Wizarding School called Pigwarts to teach music there once the new Wizarding School called Pigwarts is opened?" Ginny made a pause to breathe.

"Detailed enough?" she asked sarcastically.

"Fine with me," Daphne shrugged, and drew her wand.

"_Accio_ my ass," Ginny muttered to herself, but unfortunately the other girl heard it and considered it worth a try.

What followed was lots of screaming from the Gryffindor, though somewhat muffled since the spell had placed her on the table, her face in Daphne's pancakes, lots of giggles from Daphne, who for some reason found the situation funny, lots of mooing from the cow, who decided to express its opinion about all this, and lots of shuffling from those people, who hadn't managed to escape the café just yet, but now made it their number one priority.

It took a while until everything was back to normal, or at least until Ginny was back in her seat, her face no longer hosting a fair share of her friend's (although the use of that phrase was questionable at the moment) lunch, and had stopped screaming, giving the Slytherin the chance to finally try that _Accio_.

_Accio _the glass ball into which Daphne Dolcetta Greengrass put the Forbidden Forest that grew beside the ruins of Hogwarts to be able to lure Grawp into Malfoy Manor where she and Ginevra Molly Weasley, soon to be Potter, are founding a new Wizarding School called Pigwarts to teach music there once the new Wizarding School called Pigwarts is opened, to be precise.

It must have been the moral support Dean was giving her once again, since the moment the misplaced Forbidden Forest came into view, they both realized how powerful her spell must have been to bring it to them.

"Grawp watch the forest," the Giant nodded, his feet sliding over the floor, then over the cow while his head was drawing a furrow into the ceiling, at last coming to a halt before their table.

"Wow," said Ginny.

"Moo," said the cow.

"Holy Anaconda!" said Daphne, staring at the glass ball which was now displaying some rather nifty cracks in it.

"Grab the Giant and Apparate!" she ordered. "It's going to hatch!"

Deciding the instructions were too weird to think about, Ginny did exactly that, and in three and a quarter seconds the loud crack of Apparition took them from the little café in Diagon Alley to the little café now standing in the middle of the Forbidden Forest.

"Erm," Ginny said, letting go of Grawp and peeking outside into the wilderness of the woods.

"Not what I had in mind," Daphne admitted. "Though it's still a fine place for a café. Provides food, drink, and rest to all those who get lost in the forest."

"Not lost," Ginny corrected. "Misplaced."

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Try not to misplace your **REVIEW**, ok?


	15. And Some Other Things

**Disclaimer: **I don't even own a squid.

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 15: And Some Other Things**_

"So we have the forest," Ginny stated, staring out of the window at the abundance of gloomy trees instead of the bright and crowded Diagon Alley. "And we even have a café in the forest, which we didn't have before."

"Not to my knowledge, that is," she added after a moment, thinking that since she had not been to every single spot in the Forbidden Forest, she couldn't say for sure that this was the first café here.

"Let's call it Pigsmeade," Daphne suggested. "Otherwise there's none of that."

"Let's," Ginny nodded, her mind still full of visions about restaurants, nightclubs, and all kinds of other goody things hidden in the depths of the forest. No wonder the Professors didn't want them roaming around there – they wished to keep all that for themselves. Well, now she was a Professor, and no one was going to stop her if she wanted to sit in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, have a cappuccino and enjoy chocolate cake. Which she was actually doing this very moment. Sans the chocolate cake, however, since she had already finished it, and all the staff of the café had managed to run out screaming in time. She was going to get them back, though. After all, a café did need people to take care of it, and bring her another piece of chocolate cake when she wanted it.

"We've got more or less all the Professors," Daphne declared. "I think."

"I've got the emblem almost finished," the redhead added, picking up her parchment and showing Daphne the adorned letter P surrounded by a bee, an owl, and a dragonfly; the space for the phoenix still blank.

"Ooh!" the Slytherin exclaimed, expressing her appreciation of such a lovely design, and praising the excellent drawing skills of her companion, as Ginny understood her outcry.

"We still need to write the name in huge letters above the door," Daphne vocalized her thoughts. "And what about the motto? _Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus_? Are we going to change that?"

"For some reason," Ginny sniggered, "I think it will suit fine. Goes nicely together with the owner of the building."

A devilish grin broke out on Daphne's face.

"What?" Ginny inquired carefully.

"Oh, but we had so much fun what that motto back in school," the girl told her, "As Slytherins, we were above all the rules and advice, and did not heed this little warning either. Quite the opposite, actually, we were all very keen on proving that we could get away with tickling a sleeping dragon. Poor Draco, didn't get any decent sleep those days. There was always someone or another tickling him awake again."

Ginny couldn't hold back her laughter at that, thinking of the poor little tired Draco, who got rudely tickled every time he tried to get some rest.

"Yes, we had our glory," Daphne smirked. "At least until Draco put some defensive spells around his bed, and took personal revenge on every single person who had dared to tickle him."

"Really? What did he do?" Ginny inquired curiously.

"To each their own. He found some nifty spell and cast it on Crabbe, making all the edible things he touched with his hands turn into stone. That poor boy, he was so miserable those days. Had to use a knife and fork to eat, and everything…"

"What did he do to you?"

"Nothing," Daphne grinned. "He only took revenge on those who tickled him."

"You mean you didn't?" Ginny sounded disappointed. In her friend's place, she would have definitely done it. Although, she could still do it. Just wait until some opportune moment, then sneak up to the dozing Malfoy, and tickle him until he was begging for mercy. Now that sounded like a plan.

"Of course I did!" Daphne exclaimed, sounding slightly insulted. "He just doesn't know it."

"You devilish girl!" Ginny whooped. "Well done!"

"That was so much fun," the Slytherin beamed at her. "You should try it too, some day."

"I certainly will," the redhead promised. "Oh, I certainly will."

"So, what else did he do," Ginny asked after a moment, "besides forcing Crabbe to have proper table manners?"

"Oh, the usual," Daphne shrugged. "Snakes in their beds, potions in their drinks, stuck in a broom closet with some Gryffindor… I did that once, too, just for the fun of it."

"You did what?" Ginny frowned.

"Locked myself into a broom closet with a Gryffindor. Had heck of a wonderful time. Although for some reason, I don't think he agreed."

"Who was it?"

"Oh… Potter."

Ginny gasped.

"You were in a broom closet with my fiancé?" she demanded.

"He wasn't your fiancé then," Daphne remarked. "But we didn't do anything like that, so relax. He was busy with trying to get the door open for most of the time, while I was developing an intelligent conversation with him."

"What did you talk about then?" Ginny got curious, thinking how weird it was to hear both Harry and intelligent conversation being mentioned in the same sentence. With no negative between them. Still, not as odd as if it had been Ron instead.

"Oh, this and that, this and that," she replied. "A bit about school, a bit about weather, a bit about Quidditch. And I told him that Millicent was having a secret crush on him."

"What???"

"Yes, and for some reason he took it as his cue to double his efforts on the door. But it was all very amusing."

"I'll bet," Ginny retorted, then realized that it probably was very amusing. Perhaps she should lock Harry into a broom closet with Millicent? After their wedding of course, just in case.

"Then he pushed couple of people into the lake," Daphne continued her story of Malfoy taking revenge. "Montague almost got himself drowned, had the Giant Squid not decided to help him back ashore. Ah, it was the beginning of a beautiful relationship between him and the Squid."

Ginny was in the middle of imagining a romantic dinner of Montague and the Giant Squid, when another thought popped into her mind.

"We've got the forest, but we didn't get the Giant Squid!" she exclaimed. "Malfoy Manor does have a lake, but it's totally squidless, isn't it?"

"It might have some eels, though," Daphne wondered. "After all, where else would have Draco got the inspiration for his Ode to them?"

"Eels are eels, but a Giant Squid is still a Giant Squid," Ginny commented wisely.

"True. But perhaps it's got Seven Eels."

"Well, I can see why seven eels is better than six," the Gryffindor ventured, "but wouldn't eight be even better?"

"Not seven eels," Daphne chuckled. "Seven Eels. With capital letters. It's a very magical creature who naturally dwells in Mariana Trench. It's said to be very smart, and very rare, and very something else."

"Really?" Ginny seemed doubtful. "But why does it have such a strange name?"

"Oh, that's because it consists of seven eels who like to spend time in each other's company. What?"

The look the redhead was giving her now was more than doubtful.

"I think," the Gryffindor spoke slowly. "That you have spent too much time with Luna."

"No! It's nothing snorcackish!" Daphne protested. "It's a real creature. Honestly. Ask Hermione if you don't believe me!"

"Fine," she replied, making a mental note not to let her friend spend too much time with Luna in the future. Daphne was already weird, true, but she was the good kind of weird like Ginny herself, not the weird kind of weird like Luna. Not that Luna wasn't her friend as well, but she couldn't imagine founding a school or plotting evil things with her.

"So we need the Squid or something," she concluded, "and we still have to prepare all the rooms for students, and for Professors, and all the classrooms. And what about uniforms? And house-elves! I know Malfoy has some, but certainly not enough to feed the whole school. And we have to charm the ceiling of the ballroom, and it also needs tables and…"

"And we also need the statue of a dragon," Daphne interjected.

"Can't we have a ferret instead?" Ginny asked. "A white cute fluffy ferret. I'm sure he wouldn't mind much, would he?"

"I don't know, he still gets a bit sensitive about his ferret experience," Daphne spoke. "But don't worry, I think I have an ide—"

"No!" Ginny exclaimed.

"No?" the Slytherin girl asked in surprise. "I thought you wanted a ferret."

"I do want a statue of a ferret, but you're not having an idea," Ginny stated. "You are always having your ideas, and you never tell me anything in advance, and I have to suffer in my curiosity. But now it's my time to have an idea, and it's time I told you nothing about it, and now you are going to suffer in your curiosity."

"So you do have an idea."

"Yes," Ginny confirmed. "I do." _As soon as I come up with something_, she added silently.

"Well, that's good," Daphne smiled. "And don't worry about those other things, I'm sure we'll think of something. Like, we can go and prepare those rooms right now."

"Now?" Ginny questioned.

"We are already here, aren't we?"

"But what about Malfoy?"

"Ah, we can always chain him to another dungeon wall if he starts to bother us," Daphne offered.

"All right, let's go then."

And the trio (two girls and one forgotten cow) started their way through the gloominess of the Forbidden Forest towards the Castle of Pigwarts.

-----

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	16. Everybody Likes Ducks

**Disclaimer: **One day I'm going to stop writing disclaimers at the beginning of every single chapter. Until then, I'll just keep saying over and over again that "Harry Potter" isn't mine. 

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 16: Everybody Likes Ducks**_

"I was thinking," Ginny commented on their way out of the Forbidden Forest. They had walked for a while, and then Daphne had suggested riding Dean, and after some giggling and blushing and imagining how everyone else would understand it if she told them what she had done, Ginny had concluded that the problem would be solved by simply not telling everyone else about it. Still, she preferred walking and let Daphne do all the riding business.

"That judging by the silence and lack of any wildlife, we probably left all the centaurs, spiders, and other ghastly beasts behind to Diagon Alley?" Daphne spoke, proving that she could ride a cow and think at the same time.

"Erm, no," the redhead admitted, although there seemed to be some truth in it – the forest was indeed abnormally quiet. Of course, perhaps being shrunk and confined into a glass ball could have such effects on its inhabitants, causing them emotional trauma or something like that; but then again, the idea of leaving all the magical and non-magical creatures behind to Diagon Alley while they themselves had Apparated here with the forest seemed rather plausible as well. So there was a considerable chance that a bunch of centaurs, several unicorns, and lots and lots of spiders were getting themselves acquainted with city life this very moment. And thestrals, too, but they didn't count because they were only seen by some. Well, perhaps it was time they got out and saw the world a bit, made new friends, visited new places, and all that stuff. And caused some decent chaos as well.

Ginny only hoped that no one would be able to trace it back to them, and then send them to Azkaban for an attempt of genocide or something like that. Hopefully those spiders could behave.

"Actually," she began, deciding that if they had rained Diagon Alley over with an abundance of dangerous species, the situation back there had probably been solved already, judging by the amount of time they had spent in the café after Apparating here, and there was nothing more they could do, except for staring at the sky and whistling, "I was more like thinking that perhaps Malfoy will notice this huge stretch of forest lying next to his house."

"I didn't consider this," Daphne admitted, falling into pensiveness. "I guess we just have to hope he has better things to do than deal with a couple of trees that hadn't been there before."

Ginny looked around in the forest. If it was made up by only a couple of trees, then those were some rather fast trees, hopping from one spot to another so quickly that they gave the onlooker the illusion that there were hundreds of them. _Speedy trees_, she grinned.

"We could put a huge bow on top of it," Daphne suggested, "and a card addressed to Draco. This way he knows it's a gift for him, and not just a few trees who decided to go for a walk."

"But then he knows it was you," Ginny remarked.

"Not necessarily," the Slytherin winked. "I don't have to sign the card, do I?"

"But who else besides you is crazy enough to give him an entire forest as a present?"

"What, you think that I'm the only person in the whole wide world capable of doing such a thing?" Daphne laughed.

"Yes," Ginny asserted firmly.

"What kind of world is this," the other girl sighed dramatically.

"Sane?" the redhead ventured.

"Boring," Daphne declared. "But at least it still has me."

"Oh, yes, you're the saviour of the day," Ginny remarked, although only half-sarcastically, for she couldn't deny that the world did need people crazy enough to hand out a forest as a gift. Otherwise, it really would have been too boring.

---

Once they were out of the forest and it was bearing a nice huge bright orange bow with fluorescent pink polka dots, with a card attached to it announcing this a belated birthday present to Draco, Ginny and Daphne turned their backs towards it, mostly because the bow was painful to look at, and walked to the shore of the lake instead, where Dean was already quenching his thirst.

"It's a bit small," the Gryffindor stated after a while of staring at it and realizing that it was not too keen on enlarging under her gaze. "More of a pond, really."

"You're too picky," Daphne snapped. "It's a body of water, be happy with it."

But Ginny seemed to be in the mood to complain.

"It doesn't have the Giant Squid. It probably wouldn't even fit the Giant Squid."

"It has eels!" Daphne reminded her.

"But it needs a Giant Something! It's not going to be right without a Giant Something," Ginny remained stubborn.

"A Giant Jellyfish?"

"And where would I get a Giant Jellyfish?"

"You're the Professor of Care for Magical Creatures," Daphne shrugged. "And when you go for that, try to get some sessile polyps as well."

"Why me?" Ginny whined.

"Because you're the one not happy with a simple Eel Pond."

"True," she admitted, thinking who the hell should she ask or where the hell should she go for a Giant Jellyfish and some sessile polyps, whatever those were.

They stared at the pond for a while longer, until coming to the conclusion that if Malfoy saw them there, he might notice a few similarities between them and the forest, like the fact that neither should have been there but still was, and then he might get some funny ideas, and thus proceeding into the Manor.

"Here at least he won't be seeing us and the forest at the same time," Daphne had remarked.

"At least as long as we stay away from windows," Ginny had added.

This wasn't their first time roaming around Malfoy Manor. But all those other times it had been mostly observing, planning, and plain sneaking around. Now it was time they actually did something. First, they headed for the ground floor corridor that was going to be the dormitories of the Weasley House. Daphne had assured her thousands of times that Draco never used them anyway, and Ginny decided it would be less distressful to simply believe her.

With one flick of her wand and a very useful spell from the _1001 Very Useful Spells for Redecoration_, they painted the walls and floors pale yellow and most of the furniture brown. The largest room in the hallway was turned into the common room, the others were to serve as bedrooms for the students.

"That's rather luxurious," Ginny commented, looking around the Weasley common room. "I really wouldn't mind being a Weasley at all."

"You are a Weasley," Daphne snickered. "Not for long, though. Yet after we have done the other rooms, I'm sure being a Potter wouldn't hurt either."

"Hmm, but this place still needs a little extra," she continued. "The Hufflepuffs loved plants, didn't they? I went to their common room once – living like in a greenhouse – plants and flowers and herbs everywhere. It was rather nice, actually, the green gave so much to their yellow and black. But your brother has never struck me as a plant lover. Surely he loves something, doesn't he?"

"Pancakes," Ginny said at once. "But better not decorate the House with those. And what were you doing in Hufflepuff anyway?"

"Playing hide-and-seek," Daphne replied, drawing huge bumblebees, no, weaselbees onto the yellow walls, conjuring up some vases with sunflowers and several golden plates.

"In Hufflepuff? And what are these plates for?" she asked, half-sure she knew the answer.

"No, in Hogwarts. But I figured it was a good hiding place. And the plates are for pancakes. We'll talk with the house-elves so that there would be warm pancakes waiting for the children every day."

"So, did you win?" Ginny queried.

"The hide-and-seek? No. Theo managed to sneak into McGonagall's office."

"Really?" Ginny gasped in surprise.

"He got detention, of course," Daphne continued with an amused smile, "but his V_illain of the Week _title was well worth it."

"So, did you ever get that title?" she asked, growing a black-currant bush into the corner of the room for black-currant jam was her favourite with pancakes.

"Hah!" Daphne snorted, scattering weaselbee pillows around the room, "I was the High Rogue for months."

"High Rogue?" Ginny couldn't hide her smile.

"It was a very desirable position, I'll have you know," the Slytherin defended herself.

"I'm sure it was, Lady High Rogue."

"Glad you admit that, Miss Chief of Mischief."

Ginny sent her an evil glare and muttered something like 'stupid Fred and George' under her breath.

---

"This founding a school business is rather tiring," Ginny mentioned after a few hours, when the had long left Weasley House, climbed up to take care of Potter and Granger, and now were back in the dungeons decorating Malfoy. And damn it sounded weird to talk like that.

"I'm done with Potter and moved on to Malfoy," she declared, to see whether spoken aloud it sounded just as bizarre as in her mind.

"After riding Dean for a good half an hour," she added. "Does this sound a bit… freakish to you as well?"

"It sounds a bit false to me," Daphne replied, eyeing the rough stone of the dungeon wall, which now happened to be green with silver polka dots (she really liked those) and dragonflies that were really Malflies. "You didn't ride Dean, remember? I did, and you just watched."

"Yes, definitely freakish," the redhead concluded, adding finishing touches to a duck pond in the middle of the Malfoy common room. It had green water, of course, and silver rubber ducks.

"Ducks are neutral," she had claimed when Daphne pointed out that the symbol of this house was a dragonfly, not a duck. "Everybody likes ducks!"

"We should leave the chains," the Slytherin presently commented. "Chains are fun."

"For you and Malfoy and Hermione, perhaps, but not for eleven-years-old children," Ginny spoke wisely, creating a little whirlpool in the water and looking the ducks swirl round and round and round.

"Not to corrupt the innocent," Daphne agreed, vanishing the chains.

"So, do you think we are done here?" the redhead questioned once the surface of the pond had stilled and the ducks slowed down.

"Let's see," her companion said, looking around the room. "Green and silver – check. Many fluffy pillows – check. Malflies – check. Soft fluffy carpet – check. Duck pond – check. Yes, it seems we truly are finished here."

"Oh thank Merlin, I'm so tired," Ginny sighed in relief.

"You're thanking Merlin for being tired?" Daphne got confused.

"I want a bed," she stated, not paying any attention to her friend's words.

"I know where you can have a nice comfy bed," the Slytherin smirked, and grabbed her hand, "Let me take you to a nice comfy bed."

---

Ginny had to admit that the bed was nice and comfy. And it was even nicer and comfier due to the fact that she had had to go up a long staircase and go down a long hallway to get there. But now she was there, and the bed was soft and nice and comfy, and she didn't give a damn about anything else, not even Daphne searching through the drawers.

Wait a second.

"Where am I?" she suddenly asked, a nasty suspicion sneaking into her mind.

"Here," Daphne replied calmly, "in this room on this bed."

"And whose bed is this?"

"Draco's."

Ginny sat up as if struck by lightning.

"We are in Malfoy's bedroom? Why are we in Malfoy's bedroom?"

"Because I haven't been here for a while and have to catch up with my snooping."

"Oh no, you don't," the redhead warned, her voice growing dark and dangerous. "You are not going to snoop around in Malfoy's bedroom while I'm resting on his bed."

"So come and join my snooping," the Slytherin offered.

"I thought you'd never ask," Ginny gave a devilish smirk and jumped off the bed, all her exhaustion suddenly vanished.

-----

**Note: **So, what do you think they are going to find from Draco's bedroom? And how did you like the Houses?

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	17. Surprise Indeed

**Disclaimer: **It all belongs to Joanne Rowling. I just add my touch of craziness to it. ;)

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 17: Surprise Indeed**_

Much to Ginny's and Daphne's great disappointment Malfoy hadn't hidden the deepest of his secrets under his pillow like any normal person. Or into his drawers. Or under his carpet. Or into a shoebox in the wardrobe. Or behind his mirror. Or…

"Aha!" Ginny exclaimed, staring victoriously at the object in her hand.

"What did you find? Where did you find it?" Daphne whirred, jumping over the bed in her haste to be there immediately and landing in a rather graceless heap on the floor.

"It's a box," the redhead stated, turning it around and observing from every angle. "It's covered with dark green velvet. And I found it from the nightstand."

As on top of the nightstand had been the most obvious and visible place in the room, she had seen it only when all the other places had been exhausted.

"Well, open it," Daphne demanded, once she had disentangled her arms and feet, and finally reached Ginny and the mysterious box.

"I'll open it when I wish to open it," the Gryffindor stated stubbornly, but nevertheless lifted the lid.

She stared, she gasped, and she collapsed onto the bed, her knees suddenly weak.

"This is beautiful," she finally managed, softly tracing the delicate silver of the necklace with her fingertips, admiring the sparkling diamonds and dazzling rubies which formed an intricate and breathtaking pattern.

"It is," Daphne agreed, sitting by her side. "Do you think it's for me?"

Ginny wanted to hit Daphne on the head with something for being stupid, but since the only thing she had in her hands was the jewel-box, which certainly didn't deserve such fate, and since she was reluctant to put it away and search for some other weapon to attack stupidity with, she suppressed that urge.

"It's not for you, moron," she snorted.

"You don't know it for sure," the Slytherin objected. "It could be Draco's attempt to apologize for ignoring me these past weeks."

"It's not," Ginny stated, considered a moment, and then added, "moron."

"And why not?"

"Because first, Malfoy would never apologize, he's too Malfoy-ish for that, and second, this is rubies."

"I like rubies," Daphne declared.

"Rubies are red."

"And so are strawberries but I still eat them."

"Let me make this clear to you," Ginny spoke slowly and sharply. "Rubies are red. Red. Red. Red like Gryffindor, one might say."

"But silver is silver and silver is Slytherin."

"Exactly. Silver for Slytherin and red for Gryffindor, and the diamonds of love joining them together."

"Oh," Daphne frowned and stared at the piece of jewellery.

"Oh," she repeated a moment later, the confusion metamorphosing into surprise.

"Oh!" she exclaimed for the third time as well, a smile of understanding gracing her features now.

Ginny rolled her eyes. And she had thought Ron was slow.

"Well, that's a great idea. Very romantic," Daphne commented. "But I don't think he's going to succeed with this."

"And why the hell not?" Ginny demanded. "The necklace is amazing."

"True," the other girl admitted. "But I thought you loved Harry."

Ginny took a deep breath, gave one last look of pure admiration to the glittering gems and shining silver, then closed the box and placed it carefully back to the nightstand. With cold and calculated moves, she proceeded to pick up one of the pillows and hurled it into Daphne's face with all her strength.

Her evil grin dropped a bit, though, after noticing that Daphne's expression mirrored hers, and it fell even more when she realized that now the other girl held the pillow.

As she dove to grab another one, as luckily for her Draco had more than one pillow, Ginny briefly wondered how her amazing friend and loyal accomplice had suddenly turned into a malicious sneaky bitch, then concluded it was something to do with the atmosphere. This was Malfoy's room after all, no wonder that there was a large quantity of pratness in the air.

What followed now was a ferocious war between two sworn enemies, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, and even though the lion showed her might and courage, the sneaky snake had a rather good aim as well. The goodness and light seemed to gain victory as their heroine was sitting on top of the wardrobe and shooting one pillow after another at the evil snake, but alas! before the snake was destroyed completely, the mighty lion ran out of ammunition, and the ferocious fight continued.

"Do you yield?" Daphne cried, standing on the table and ready to strike.

"Never! Never!" Ginny shouted and fired her last pillow. "Never will I yield to the likes of you. The darkness will be banished, the light will triumph, and the mighty lion will—"

"That's not fair!" the redhead exclaimed, removing the pillow from her face and standing up. "You cannot attack me while I'm giving my grand speech!"

"But evil snakes never play fair," Daphne smirked. "Besides, that was your grand speech? I thought you were choking on something."

"I'll show you," Ginny promised, and dashed into the battle. "For glory and death! For glory and death!"

---

"Do you yield?" the mighty lion cried a while later, a pillow in each hand, giving a blow after a blow to the defeated snake lying at her feet.

"Sure," came Daphne's slightly muffled voice since her face was hidden into the carpet and her arms were trying to protect her head from the vicious blows of her enemy.

"You do?" the said enemy asked, dropping her pillow in surprise.

"Sure I do. If you can't fight them, join them. Being a martyr doesn't pay well."

"True," Ginny agreed. "But I'm not offering a union. What I want is your utter and complete surrender. From now on, you will be my slave."

Yes, there was definitely something evil in the air.

"Yes, Mistress," Daphne succumbed, making her captor drop the other pillow in a new wave of surprise.

"I never thought it would be this easy," Ginny managed to say before the positions of power were suddenly reversed and she found herself from the floor, an evil snake standing above her with an evil smirk on her face.

"Foul! Foul!" she cried with indignation.

"Foul play indeed," Daphne agreed and raised the pillows.

The wounded lion braced herself for the blow, but it never came. What did reach her, however, was someone's laughter from the hallway.

Ginny froze. Daphne froze. The laughter continued.

"Damn!" Ginny exclaimed silently, jumping to her feet and looking around the room, which was quite similar to a battlefield, especially after a couple of tornadoes had gone over it.

"Damn! Damn! Damn!" she cursed under her breath again, wondering why the idea that maybe Malfoy's bedroom wasn't the best place to have a pillow fight had never crossed her mind before. It had to be the evil air.

Daphne was already busy with cleaning up their mess, and once done with the cursing, Ginny joined her.

Books and parchment flew back to the table, pillows regained their rightful place on the bed, clothes returned to the wardrobe, a few trinkets rose from the floor and repaired themselves – had they really wreaked such havoc on this place? Yes, they had.

"Let's go," Ginny whispered urgently, once everything seemed to be in proper order.

Daphne nodded and reached for the doorknob, but someone beat her to it, grabbing it from the other side and turning.

The two chaos makes exchanged one meaningful glance, and the next moment they had both managed to squeeze themselves into the wardrobe, drawing its door shut at the exact same time the other door was opened.

Ginny didn't dare to heave her sigh of relief. Luckily for them, Malfoy's wardrobe was just as big as she could have expected from one spoiled brat. Unfortunately, though, he seemed to have just as many robes as she could have expected from one vain spoiled brat, meaning that while the wardrobe might have been spacious when it was empty, now they barely had room to breathe, not to mention make themselves comfortable.

"So, where's the surprise?" a voice asked from outside the wardrobe, sounding amused and carefree. _Good for you to say,_ Ginny thought, _you aren't forced to sit on shoes with the high heel of your friend pressing into your stomach._

She tried to push that said high heel away before it managed to stab a hole through her, and was rather happy to hear the hiss of the evil snake who wasn't very comfortable either.

"Where do you think it is?" another voice drawled out, and she immediately recognized its owner as Malfoy.

"Let me look again," the first voice, definitely female and definitely familiar, spoke.

"Hopefully she doesn't look into here," Ginny whispered.

"Not here," the joyful carefree voice rang out, then again after a small pause, "not here either. Perhaps here?"

"Well, she would definitely find a surprise from here," Daphne whispered back. "Although perhaps not the one she is expecting."

"No, not here," the voice didn't sound one bit disappointed, "I guess I'll just have to keep looking."

"What are they doing? And who is she?" Ginny poked Daphne.

"You're closer to the keyhole," the Slytherin poked her right back, and rather painfully. "Take a peek."

"There's no keyhole!" Ginny hissed furiously, rubbing her hurt shoulder.

"Use a spell then," she suggested.

"I don't know any keyhole creating spells!"

"How about the invisible hole one?" Daphne offered.

Ginny had to admit that the idea was good, and after a bit of silent squirming to get her hand free, she pointed her wand to the door, and cast the spell.

And would have exclaimed out loud if Daphne hadn't been quick enough to cover her mouth with her hand.

"That sneaky lioness!" Ginny fumed under her breath, once she had managed to push Daphne's hand away.

"That was the easiest bit of matchmaking I've ever had to do. Except for that time maybe when I pushed Bones into Boot."

"Susan dated Terry? I never knew it," Ginny was surprised that this little piece of gossip had never reached her ears.

"They didn't last for long though. About three heated snogging sessions in broom closets before he started to get on her nerves. Really, those Ravenclaws are way too smart to bear them."

"Oh… oh… yes!!!"

Ginny turned her head on instinct, realized her mistake, and quickly squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'm scarred for life now," she complained.

"Like we haven't seen that before," Daphne winked.

"We didn't look!" Ginny reminded. "And we certainly didn't hear a thing. Like now."

The moans were getting louder and impossible to block out, and for some reason neither accomplice thought to cast a Silencing spell.

"I want to get out of here," Ginny whined, her hands pressed onto her ears, "and right now."

Daphne looked around in the wardrobe for a while, realized it was too dark to see a thing, shrugged, removed one of her shoes, and placed the tip of her wand against it.

"_Portus_," she spoke, watching her shoe shake a bit and glow blue.

"Where will it take us?" Ginny inquired.

"Does it matter?"

"As long as it's a place outside this room, no," the redhead said, grabbing hold of the shoe, and suffering several loud moans before Daphne managed to activate it.

---

Ginny flinched at another moan.

"When I said I wanted out," she whispered, "I didn't mean quite this."

"We are out of the room," Daphne remarked.

"We are hanging from the window ledge!" Ginny hissed.

"At least the window is open."

"I know!" the Gryffindor gritted through her teeth, wondering whether it would be worth to cover her ears and take the 30-feet fall.

Creating the portkey, Daphne had been stupid enough, and Ginny didn't fail to tell her so, to specify the location as 'outside the room'. While it had seemed like a good idea, the Slytherin had defended herself, instead of landing outside the door of the room, they had got the wonderful chance to land outside the window of the room. Popping out into air and nothing but air, they actually had to consider themselves very lucky to have succeeded in grabbing hold of the window ledge at all.

Hanging outside the window of Malfoy's bedroom while he was there doing things to her best friend, very pleasurable things, actually, judging by the moans and screaming, Ginny didn't consider herself one bit lucky. But she did consider Daphne rather dead once she got the opportunity to use her hands again for something else than holding on.

"Can't we Levitate ourselves down, or something?" Daphne wondered.

"We could," Ginny agreed, "if our first reaction to finding ourselves in mid-air had been placing our wands between our teeth and only then grabbing hold of the ledge."

"You mean you dropped it?" the Slytherin asked in horrified whisper.

"It was in my hand!" Ginny defended herself, "and I needed my hand to hold on. Didn't you?"

"No. But I can't hold on with one hand so I'm not going to reach for it either."

"Any other plans?" Ginny asked sarcastically.

"One," Daphne admitted. "We can climb in through the window."

Ginny looked at her friend as if she had gone crazy.

"In there? You want me to climb in there?"

"Unless you'd rather stay out here," Daphne smirked. "Besides, judging by the sounds, those two are not going to notice us anyway."

Ginny couldn't deny that there was a point there somewhere. Probably. Plus her arms were starting to hurt really badly. But then again, getting caught by a white tiger and angry lioness sounded almost as bad as 30-feet fall, if not worse.

And talking about sounds… Ginny had always known that Hermione had a loud voice, but that scream must have been heard in the radius of at least fifty miles. Especially with the open window.

"Okay," she agreed a bit reluctantly, knowing that inside the room not only the sounds would be louder, but accompanied by the visual part as well. Still, that paved road down there seemed rather painful, and she was sure she wouldn't be able to outhang those two either.

"But you go first," she added.

Daphne nodded and started to climb. Fortunately, they were both lithe adventurous girls, meaning that although this situation might have been novel to them, they had done their fair share of climbing and hanging before. Where some other, less experienced people would have huffed and puffed and fumbled and fallen to their death, Daphne first found leverage for her feet, pushed, pulled, wriggled a bit, pushed and pulled some more, and slipped through the window into the room. Once she had made it inside, Ginny followed her, discovering that all this pushing and pulling looked a bit easier than it actually was. But having done a fair share of climbing herself, it didn't take too long until she too dropped to the floor on the other side.

"Well, that was fun," she commented, turning towards her friend, who was staring in front of her with an odd expression on her face.

"Wasn't it?" Ginny inquired, realizing the moans and screams had stopped annoying her that much. And that was nice. After that, however, came the realization that the moans and screams had stopped altogether. And that wasn't so nice anymore.

Slowly, very slowly to postpone the inevitable as long as she could, Ginny turned her head towards the bed and its occupants, who had finished.

Finished their previous activity, that is, but it didn't look like they were going to finish glaring daggers at them any time soon. Perhaps they should have picked the fall instead.

"Hey," she said weakly. "We thought we'd drop in. But as you seem to be… erm… busy, we can go now. Right?"

"Yes," Daphne nodded vigorously and stood up as inconspicuously as she could, shifting towards the door which seemed to be light years away. "It was nothing urgent, just thought to see what you were up to. But now that we know it, there's really not much else to say or do. So, see you later. Bye!"

"Bye!" Ginny repeated and they both dashed towards the door.

-----

**Note: **I like this chapter. :) I hope you liked it, too. Aah, but I haven't had a decent pillow fight for... actually, I can't remember ever having a decent pillow fight. Poor me.

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	18. Rather Stuck

**Disclaimer: **I'm not Joanne Rowling. Honestly!

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 18: Rather Stuck**_

Ginny heard Hermione shout something at them, but she didn't catch it, and she certainly didn't stop. She had actually yelled only one word – _Rasvu_ – and even if Ginny had caught that, she wouldn't have understood, and even if she had comprehended, she would have never halted.

The door had seemed light years away, and it felt like centuries before they reached it, but finally it was there, right in front of them, close enough to touch, and the best part of it – open.

_I'm actually going to make it,_ the redhead thought in surprise, and dove through the doorway. And she really might have made it, had Daphne not chosen the exact same moment to do the exact same thing, which now resulted in a collision.

"Get out of my way!" Ginny yelled, pressing towards freedom with all her might.

"You get out of my way!" Daphne shouted back, refusing to stop her movements of trying to squeeze through.

"I was here first!" Ginny exclaimed, waving with her hands in attempt to get hold of something that might help her pull herself into the hallway.

"So it's only fair I get to be **there** first!"

"Evil snakes don't play fair!" the Gryffindor roared, using her arms now for pushing Daphne away. But the girl had arms, too, and she fought back, and to her great horror Ginny suddenly felt herself being pushed away.

"Oh, no, you don't!" she declared, pressed her feet firmly into the floor, took a deep breath, and pushed like she had never pushed before.

The doorframe cracked in protest, something ripped, and the only sound in her way too narrow world was that of laboured breathing. But she kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing, and suddenly the restraints were gone and she was flying across the hallway, and before she managed a proper squeak of horror, she had crashed into the opposite wall. Another crash followed almost immediately, indicating that Daphne had managed to escape as well.

With an angry growl Ginny shove the wall away from herself, or perhaps herself away from the wall, not that it mattered, though, and turned toward the other girl to yell at her, which seemed the best idea at the moment.

But as soon as she got a glimpse of Daphne, Ginny's mouth fell open. Also, she was quite sure her mind had gone blank, as well, and her ability to speak had taken a vacation. She still managed to blink, though, but that didn't help either, for the vision before her eyes stayed the very same.

Ginny was not familiar with the sport of Sumo, nor had she been present when Harry had blown up his aunt Marge. Therefore, the only description that came to her mind was that the woman standing before her looked like she had eaten a thousand pancakes. And then some more.

She was huge. Everything about her was huge. And Ginny couldn't say she was fat either because that would have been the gravest understatement. She was more than obese. She was as tall as wide.

And she was Daphne.

And the look on her face, above those seven chins, was one that told no good.

Preparing herself for the worst, and half-sure she knew what it was, Ginny looked down at her feet. Well, she supposed that her feet were somewhere down there, under the enormous mound that was her stomach. Yes, it was her stomach because it was below the two enormous mounds that were her breasts. Not seeing her feet suddenly sounded like a good thing, but then again, looking at Daphne gave her a clear picture of what they looked like. Of what she looked like. And it wasn't a picture anyone would enjoy. It was more like a picture everyone would scream at and then run away.

"I'm fat!" Ginny screamed once her brain was capable of forming thoughts again, and her mouth agreed to speak them out.

"You look like you've had three thousand pancakes," Daphne commented.

"You look like you have had three thousand three hundred and thirty-three!" she snapped at her, then let out a long wail, "I'm fat! I'll never fit into my wedding dress!"

"I doubt Harry would want you like this anyway," the Slytherin tried to comfort her.

Ginny stopped her wailing for a second, wondering whether strangling Daphne would be a better idea, but one look at her neck drove that thought away.

"I'm fat!" she howled instead. "I'm fat! I'm fat! I'm fat!"

"Ladies," a smooth voice suddenly spoke from beside them, and turning their heads towards its source, even though it took a couple of more wails before Ginny managed that, they saw a smirking ferret leaning against the doorframe, clad in a silver bathrobe and twirling his wand between his fingers.

For about half a minute they both stared at him, not failing to notice just how thin he suddenly seemed, when something clicked in Ginny's brain, and being obese didn't sound like their worst worry any longer.

Obviously Daphne had realized that as well, and even sooner than Ginny, for the next moment she let out a high-pitched cry and stormed past them. The redhead followed her at once, very aware that since she was on the last place, it was her back that Malfoy now had a clear shot at, and since it was almost as wide as the hallway, the chance that he would miss was almost as slim as the space between her and the walls.

Running with three thousand pancakes wasn't easy, but at least this path would take them away from a smirking wand-twirling Malfoy, and that was the most important thing right now. This path led to freedom.

Actually, this path led to staircase. Daphne was first to reach it, and whether she was in too much hurry to think or simply incapable of stopping, when Ginny finally saw what was happening and yelled out a desperate "NO!!!", Daphne was already whizzing through the air like an over-weight Quaffle.

Due to gravitation, she landed in the middle of the long staircase, and even though she couldn't see this, Ginny was certain her expression was one of pure victory for the whole five seconds until the stairs decided that just like a cow was too much for a broom to carry, this blow and the continuous weight was too much for it to handle, and with a loud crack of wood and a surprised yelp from Daphne, the stairs gave way under her body, and a moment later she found herself in the staircase to her waist, or what was left of it.

"I'm stuck!" she yowled after thorough squirming, pushing, and pulling.

"I'm fat!" Ginny replied, slowly coming to the realization that even if she dared stepping onto the staircase, she wouldn't be able to get past Daphne anyway, meaning that she was stuck here as well.

"I'm stuck in the staircase!" Daphne thought to elaborate.

"I won't fit into my wedding dress!" the Gryffindor yelled. It was all Daphne's fault anyway, and she was not going to stand here just like that and let her lament about her bad luck, when it was perfectly clear that she, Ginny, was the true victim here. That decided, she plopped down to the floor, careful not to sit through it, and continued her own wailing.

"I'm stuck in the staircase!"

"I'm fat! Harry will never want to marry me this way!"

"I'm stuck in the staircase!"

"And why should he? He could get anyone he wanted!"

"I'm stuck in the staircase!"

"He could get any girl in the whole wide world, and he's not going to pick me when I look like this!"

"I'm stuck in the staircase!"

"Nobody would ever want me like this!"

"I'm stuck in the staircase!"

"I'll become a spinster and die all alone!"

"I'm stuck in the staircase!"

"I'll die all alone, and fat!"

"I'm stuck in the staircase!"

"I'm fat!"

"I'm stuck in the staircase!"

"I'm fat!"

"I'm stuck in the staircase!"

"I'm fat!"

"I'm in love with Draco, but don't tell anyone, it's a secret."

"I'm fa— what?" The time Ginny had spent with Daphne had taught her to expect a lot of things from that girl. In fact, she was quite certain that there were less those things she could say that would actually manage to shock her than those she was prepared to hear. This, however, was one of the few things that did render her speechless.

"I said that I'm in love with Draco, but don't tell anyone, it's a secret."

"But… but… but…" Ginny's vocabulary was suddenly reduced to a single word.

It was then that someone tapped her on the shoulder, and welcoming the distraction with open arms so that she would not have to think about the shocking news she just received, Ginny jumped to her feet and wheeled around. Or more like heaved herself up, collected her breath, and then slowly turned.

Surprises just refused to stop coming.

The picture before her eyes seemed to be an exact copy of what she had seen a few moments ago, only now it was Hermione leaning against the wall, dressed in a silver bathrobe and twirling her wand between her fingers. And, oh Merlin help us all, smirking.

Ginny would have screamed and run, had she not been painfully aware that she had nowhere to go. Here was Hermione, back there would be Malfoy, and the stairs were blocked by her soon-to-be-dead accomplice.

"Hermione!" she squeaked in horror, choosing the only option available and pressing herself into the opposite wall.

She didn't do anything but kept smirking at her and twirling the wand, but that stare and silence felt more terrible than anything else.

Ginny wondered whether she could actually push her way through the wall, and tried it, but Hermione kept smirking, and the wall didn't seem to be giving in.

"Yes?" the redhead managed at last, trying to sound humble, and probably even succeeding in that.

"I said that I'm in love with Draco, but don't tell anyone, it's a secret," Hermione said for the third time, smirking like she had never smirked before.

"Well, that's good for you, right?" Ginny replied, a bit confused and not a bit relieved about the topic of their conversation.

"That's very good," Hermione agreed, her smirk turning into an actual smile.

"That's great!" Ginny exclaimed, a shimmer of hope reaching her heart.

"Yes. Now tell me why you were spying on us again."

Ginny gulped. Hermione's tone had been soft, and the smile still there, but something in her gaze or about her posture told very clearly that the danger was not over yet.

"We didn't!" she hurried to explain. "Honestly! We were just snooping around in Malfoy's bedroom, and then we happened to have a pillow fight, but then you came, and we cleaned up the mess we had made, but didn't manage to leave the room. So we portkeyed out from the wardrobe, but instead of behind the door, we ended up behind the window, in thin air. We fell but got hold of the window ledge, and climbed in, and you know the rest."

"So that's what happened?" Hermione raised a brow.

"Yes!" Ginny exclaimed, "we weren't spying on you, really!"

"In that case," she smiled, stopped twirling her wand and pointed it at the redhead again, who let out a gasp of horror and closed her eyes.

"_Kõhnu_."

She didn't recognize the spell, but she did feel oddly light suddenly. Opening her eyes again, Ginny took a peek around, and looking downwards, she realized she was able to see her feet again.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she turned towards her friend, who wasn't there anymore. Looking around, Ginny noticed her by Daphne, helping the now-slim-again-but-soon-still-dead girl out of the stairs. The Slytherin looked every bit like before, unhurt though a little shaken. She chose to descend instead of coming up, and Ginny watched her rest against the wall at the landing, her eyes closed and hands around her stomach.

The Gryffindor was about to scream and dash after her, when something caught her eye. Daphne's stomach, although not the mountain it had been before, was still a bit bigger than it should have been. That realization triggered another thought, and looking down at herself again, she learned that although she didn't look like a human ball anymore, she still wouldn't fit into her wedding dress.

"Hermione, you missed a bit," she turned towards the patch of wall her friend had leaned against before, finding it empty.

Gazing back down the stairs, she saw Daphne there, but all alone. Thin enough to do this, she spun around, coming face to face with the one she was looking for.

She was standing a few steps away from her, but instead of leaning against the wall, Hermione was now leaning against Malfoy, his arms wrapped around her.

And oh Merlin save us all, now they were both smirking at her.

"Fifty laps around the house would be enough," Hermione spoke.

"Millicent sends her regards," Draco added, placing a soft kiss onto his lover's temple.

Ginny stared at them for a while, wondering whether she should say or do something, and in that case, what should it be.

Draco and Hermione bore and answered to her gaze, not once taking their eyes off her, even though they sometimes turned to share a kiss or a touch.

"It's good to see you so happy," Ginny smiled at last, finally reaching a decision.

"It's good to be so happy," Hermione replied with a laugh, and the two friends exchanged a look of truce. They were even now, and there was no need for any revenge on either side.

As to revenge…

"Daphne Dolcetta Greengrass!" Ginny bellowed, jumping onto the balustrade. "You are so dead now!"

---

"Now this is almost better than a book," Hermione grinned.

"Aah! The world is going to end!" Draco gasped in fake horror.

"Stop that," she gave him an annoyed look, but her eyes twinkled in amusement. "I said almost."

"That's good. We still have time then. What a shame if the world decided to end just now when I'm having so much fun."

"Perhaps it has a personal vendetta against you?" Hermione giggled.

"I'll show you vendetta," Draco smirked.

"And I'll show you mine," she grinned back seductively, "later. Right now I'd like to watch this."

"As my Queen wishes," he said with a smile, pulled her into a lazy embrace, and turned his attention downwards. From the roof of the Manor, they had an excellent view of what was happening below, even though they had to rush from one side of it to the other if they wanted to see it all.

Five floors lower, Daphne was currently busy running for her life, and letting out occasional screams for the dramatic effect. Ginny was only a few steps behind, her hands stretched out and ready to grab her prey. At the end came Dean, running and mooing for all his worth.

"Yes," Hermione smirked. "Almost better than a book."

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**Note: **Spell translations (from Estonian)

_Rasvu _- fatten (imperative)

_Kõhnu _- slim (verb, imperative)

Hmm, I think I love this chapter even more than the previous one. ;)

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	19. The Wedding: Invitation Only

**Note: **Remember my plan of finishing this part in 20 chapters? I've given up on that. Now I'm aiming for 21. :D

This is the first wedding chapter, by the way. There are two more to come, so the wedding isn't over yet. **  
**

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**Disclaimer: **Since I'm neither J. K. Rowling nor Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter does not belong to me.

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

**_Chapter 19: The Wedding – Invitation Only_**

The dress was white, of course, the only colour allowed. She hadn't even considered anything else, knowing that it would never happen. And she had been smart enough to bite back all the joking remarks about not being able to wear white – that would have equalled an eternity of screaming and very possibly the cancellation of the whole wedding. With the short temper and fragile nerves her mother was displaying for the last few days, she could only hope that it would all recede once this day was over, or at least once she got back from her honeymoon.

The dress was also Molly's and it looked beautiful on her. Of course, that had required twenty-nine laps round Malfoy Manor, three days of starvation, and lots of yelling and crying and being locked to her room. Her sneaking around and founding school times seemed to be over, especially after that evening Molly had caught her climbing back into her room through the window. Despite her bad experiences with windows and climbing through them, for several days this had been her only escape, and even that had been taken away from her.

Not that it mattered any longer because today was the day. Everything was ready simply because everything had to be ready, and even though she didn't consider herself a perfectionist, today things had to go the way she wanted. Because today was the day – the day that was going down in history as one of the most important dates in the history of wizardkind.

It was the day she was going to marry Harry.

---

Most of the guests had already arrived, and were now mingling, chatting, and sipping their drinks. Ron stood amongst them, but he didn't mingle, chat, or enjoy a drink. He had been appointed with a serious task, and since he loved both his sister and his life, he couldn't but do his duty, which was 'behave, and make sure everyone else does it as well, or I'll have your head'. She had told him that at least nine times, having elbowed him in the ribs first to make sure he was listening.

And for this reason his gaze was much sharper now, and he was actually paying attention to what happened around him. And because he was paying attention to his surroundings, it didn't take him too long to notice something that could be classified only as trouble, in the subcategory of major trouble.

There, in front of him, looking as if everything was normal, stood Millicent Bulstrode and Blaise Zabini, chatting, laughing, and drinking together. And perhaps everything would have been normal had they been doing that in somewhere else than in the wedding of his little sister and best friend. Also, a silver dagger and a couple of evil smirks might have improved the image. But they were here and now and if Ron had something to say about it, and he had a lot to say about it, very soon they wouldn't be here and now anymore. Because this was the wedding of two Gryffindors, and there must have been a law somewhere stating that Slytherins had no right to be here. Although, now that he considered it, he didn't actually mind them being present because if they hadn't been here, he wouldn't have got the chance to kick them out. Now this was a mental image better than any amount of evil smirks and daggers.

With every intention of kicking some Slytherin ass, he directed his glare back to the duo, who had unfortunately used his thoughtful moments to disappear from sight, as if they knew what he was going to do to them.

But now that Ron had already seen the trouble, he was not going to rest until he had seen it again and taken care of it. They could run, they could mingle, they could drink and chat and laugh, and they could hide, but he was going to find them no matter what. That is, as long as they really were here, and the hot sun and lack of a cold drink hadn't finally got to him.

---

The bridesmaids' dresses were pale pink. She blamed Fleur, and comforted herself with the notion that this time she was not required to wear one. Still, they didn't look that bad. At least they weren't bright orange with fluorescent pink polka dots, and that was something she was rather grateful for.

Although she might have even managed to bear that, as long as the only one wearing such a masterpiece was Daphne, and she was doing it here. Because, as angry and livid and furious and mad and raged as she was at Daphne, she didn't want to marry without her – she had been her constant companion, accomplice, friend, and something close to a sister for the past couple of weeks, and missing her on the happiest day of her life sounded a bit wrong. Not that she was willing to cancel her wedding for Daphne's sake – never in a million years. She just wanted her there, but according to her spies, that is, spy, that is, Hermione, Daphne hadn't arrived yet.

True, she hadn't seen her for a couple of days, ever since the Incident. But then again, she had been rather busy for those days with all the preparations, and starvation, and climbing through her window, and getting caught, and receiving a three-hour lecture about 'how proper young ladies do not run away to their young men to do improper things before the wedding'. Luckily for her, Molly was convinced she had been sneaking away to meet Harry all these times. But still, she had expected to run into Daphne, either in the little café now in the middle of the Forbidden Forest and still looking for staff, or in the hallways of Malfoy Manor, where she only dared to go after making sure Malfoy had left and even then staying for only ten minutes, or at Blaise's, which had been the location of their last pre-"Ginny's wedding" party. She had once even knocked on Daphne's door, simply because she had been in the neighbourhood (well, she had just got this weird urge to go into Derbyshire), yet received no answer but a faint "Moo!"

This was probably just a coincidence, though. It's not like Daphne was avoiding her on purpose. Why should she? The Slytherin was not the type to let little things bother her – like being chased round the Manor for twenty-nine laps and then being strangled a bit. Just a little bit, she didn't even lose consciousness, thanks to Dean the Heroic Cow, who dashed to save his beloved like a… erm… cow in shining… something. It had been rather romantic, actually, especially when he rode into the sunset with her afterwards.

But Daphne wasn't one to let such details ruin a friendship. She was probably just dealing with some last minute preparations about Pigwarts. Something in the Manor, possibly, now that Malfoy was away from home. Thanks to her spies-spy-Hermione, she knew exactly where Malfoy was at the moment.

---

However, Ginny wasn't the only one knowing Malfoy's exact location. Unfortunately for him, Ron knew as well, and he knew it even better, for his information didn't limit to 'somewhere around here' but was as specific as 'five yards away, ten o'clock'.

There was trouble, and then there was TROUBLE. This certainly qualified as the latter. Ron could still recall those photos on the first page on the Daily Prophet; no matter how hard he tried to forget them, they still haunted his dreams. And now the Ferret was here, at Ginny's wedding, clearly with the most devious intentions (because why else would he come), and Ron felt like it was his birthday, Christmas, and World Quidditch Cup combined. Because there was nothing better he could think of than kicking Malfoy out of here, other than sending a nice juicy hex at him in the process, which he was going to do as well, now that the idea had crossed his mind. Surely, kicking the Ferret out of here was the ultimate act of proper behaviour.

Angry glare in place and fingers around his wand, Ron set off towards the blissfully obvious and at the moment also a bit bored-looking Malfoy.

Unfortunately for all the Slytherins, for Ginny hadn't been stingy with the invitations, who had been drawn to the scene not quite like moths to the fire, but more like hungry wolves to a lost sheep, didn't get to see the show they were expecting. It had been a close call, though. Ron had been mere steps away from Draco when out of nowhere appeared some brother of his and whisked him away.

"Damn!"

"Better luck next time."

"I'll see to that," Millicent promised with a smirk.

---

A knock sounded on the door to her room.

"Ginny?"

"Come in, Hermione," the bride replied, recognizing the voice of her spy.

"You look beautiful," her friend told her, for the twelfth time at least. Not that she minded, though.

"You're not so bad yourself," she returned the compliment, and when Hermione looked like she was going to protest, she quickly added, "At least it's not bright orange."

"It's not the colour," Hermione admitted. "It's just a bit hot for this weather, that's all. But I guess bridesmaids' dresses aren't supposed to be comfortable, or pretty."

"Well, that's good. Don't want anyone overshadow me in prettiness, now do I?" Ginny winked.

"They don't stand a chance."

"No, but you would," she smiled. "All this sneakiness has done you good."

"Well, that's the thing with Slytherins – you can't live with them, yet you can't live without them."

"Perhaps. But it's definitely better to have them."

---

By the time that 'some brother of his' was done with Ron, and he was able to return to his post, there was not a single Slytherin on display. He was so disappointed with this, that at the moment he would have agreed to Ginny's remark because having Slytherins meant having the chance to hex them.

But there were no Slytherins in his line of vision, which meant that by the time one decided to appear, he had probably already forgotten all those terrific things he had thought out while helping Bill rearrange the tables according to the yells and cries of Molly and Fleur, who used the little time they had still left before the ceremony to disagree about everything.

In fact, he was so disappointed at losing his chance to put all his ingenious plans into action, that when a friendly arm was thrown around his shoulders, and a friendly hand offered him a drink, he took it not only without the second thought, but without the first as well, gulping down all the liquid and spending a good while for gasping and coughing and choking on the Firewhiskey, which wasn't wine or champagne.

"Nice party," Millicent spoke politely.

Ron nodded.

"Of course, it would be even better if Draco was here," she added.

Ron nodded again in complete agreement.

"By the way, I last saw him there."

Ron followed the pointing arm, then stared at it for a while, and glanced at its owner to give his thanks.

But what came out of his mouth next, was slightly different.

"You are a Slytherin!"

"Really?" Millicent raised her brow. "I never noticed. Did you, Blaise?"

Blaise, the person attached to the friendly arm that was still around Ron's shoulders, shook his head.

"How terrible," he commented.

Jumping away from the two Slytherins and their friendly arms and hands, Ron took a moment to stare at them in silence. He kind of remembered there was something he was supposed to do in such a situation, but since those ideas varied from thanking to hexing, he had hard time to make his decision.

Thinking wasn't suddenly as easy as it had been before, and Ron frowned. One glass of Firewhiskey could have never done this to him, but perhaps one glass of Firewhiskey, the hot sun, plus fifteen minutes of yelling, shouting, and arguing from Molly and Fleur could. Actually, there were only a couple of things Molly's yelling couldn't achieve. Still, he had to do something.

"I'm very sorry, but this party is invitation only," he managed at last, sounding so polite that he even surprised himself.

"But we do have the invitations," Millicent announced, fishing two small rolls of golden parchment out of her purse, and holding them up for inspection.

But Ron, who had despite the sun, his mother, and Firewhiskey just realized that instead of being polite here, he could go in the pointed direction, find Malfoy, and not be polite there, that he didn't even look at those golden rolls of parchment, but instead stated, "Excuse me for a moment, I've got a Ferret to hex", and set off towards where Millicent had indicated.

"I told you I'd make it happen," she announced triumphantly.

"That you did," Blaise had to admit, "Now let's go and see what happens."

But yet again they were deprived of their entertainment because it was time for the wedding ceremony.

"Do you think Ginny would agree to postpone it a bit so that we could watch the fight first?" Millicent wondered.

---

"Ginny, we have to go!"

"I know," she answered calmly, glancing at the mirror for one last time, before letting Fleur, Hermione, and Luna usher her out of the room. Her tone was deceitful, though, for Ginny was feeling everything but calm at the moment.

Then again, brides weren't supposed to be calm on their wedding day.

"She'll be here," Hermione whispered into her ear.

"She'd better," Ginny replied, then turned all her attention to not tripping over the hem of her dress.

---

The bride was gorgeous, everyone had to agree. Except for those who didn't agree, but fortunately had enough decency to lie about it. Molly was crying, and she wasn't the only one.

Ginny smiled upon reaching her destination without the merry interlude of falling flat on her face. The Matrimonial Mage started the ceremony, and looking at Harry, she found his eyes particularly green this fine afternoon. He did have nice eyes. Like freshly-pickled toad. Or Slytherin. She had to suppress a snicker at that. Speaking of Slytherin, though…

Not that it really mattered. She had her family, she had her friends, she had Harry, and she had a bunch of other Slytherins. She didn't really need Daphne, did she?

No.

Yes.

Damn!

Time to change the subject. A bride shouldn't be cursing during her wedding ceremony, not even mentally. She concentrated on Harry again, examined the smile on his lips, and the pride and happiness on his face, and the deep love and devotion in his eyes.

Which were green.

Like Slytherin.

Like Daphne's eyes, and hair, and usually robes as well.

Perhaps she didn't come because she really hated the pale pink? She could have made an exception for her.

The Mage, whose previous talk about the great importance and responsibility of marriage had gone completely past the bride, who was busy trying not to curse, even mentally, and also the groom, who simply found the bride too beautiful to look or listen to anything else, now reached the part of the objections. The bride and groom still weren't listening to it, but there were those who were. And one of them decided to speak up.

"I object!"

And with those two words Ginny's inner struggle was over, and all thoughts about Daphne flew from her mind, as she turned her shocked-but-soon-to-be-murderous gaze at the person who had dared to ruin her wedding.

It took her a couple of moments to locate the criminal, but once she had, all her surprise that had managed to turn into anger turned right back to surprise.

"Vinny?" she finally managed to gasp, and finding encouragement from that, Vincent Crabbe pressed through the crowd staring at him with open jaws, and made his way to the beautiful bride.

"I'm sorry, Ginevra," he spoke, once he had reached her. "I don't want to cause you any pain, and I don't want to ruin anything for you. But I just have to say this."

He looked really nervous, yet determined, and realizing that his words were sincere, Ginny now smiled in earnest.

"Go on."

"You are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen in my life, Ginevra. I love you. Will you marry me? Let's make babies together!"

Some of the audience had burst out laughing at that, some of them were shaking their fists and shouting in fury – Ginny ignored them both.

"Oh, Vinny," she sighed. "This is so incredibly sweet of you. And incredibly brave as well. Don't you worry, you haven't ruined anything. You are a good man, Vincent, and you have a good heart, and I'm sure some day you will find the right girl for you who will make you more happy than you could ever imagine."

"I've already found her."

"You have become a good friend of mine, Vinny, and you will always have a special place in my heart. But I'm in love with Harry," she ended with a small wistful smile.

There was a long pause, as he pondered this. She wondered whether she was in danger of being either punched or kidnapped, decided that Vinny would never do the first, and the idea of the second would probably never cross his mind, and continued to wait patiently.

"I understand," Crabbe nodded. "I didn't think you would, but it was still worth the try. You were worth the try."

With a tiny sob and without any thought, Ginny walked up to him, threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug, ignoring all the hanging jaws and bulging eyes and gasps of surprise around her. She also ignored the soft thump of someone either fainting or sitting past their chair.

But she was not done yet with shocking her audience because even though she let Vincent go after a moment, she didn't let him leave without a kiss on his cheek. Only then did she return to the Matrimonial Mage, who seemed to be enjoying the entertainment, probably used to all the intrigues and secrets of a wedding, and his fiancé, whose expression told her that he didn't mind the interruption as long as she didn't mind it. And Ginny really didn't mind it.

In fact, her smile was even a bit wider, and her mind a lot calmer, when the Mage continued his speech and she continued staring at Harry and everything continued the way it should…

"WAIT!!!"

Everybody wheeled towards the shout, and this time it didn't take them more than a second to locate the one who had cried that because it was rather hard not to see a black and white cow storming straight at them, carrying a girl on its back, her long green hair fluttering in the wind.

"Daphne!" Ginny cried with joy.

"I'm here!" the girl announced, jumping off the cow once it had stopped.

"Daphne!" Ginny repeated, noticing that the dress her long-awaiting friend was wearing wasn't bright orange with fluorescent pink polka dots, but plain silver, giving her the look of a true Slytherin in combination of her green hair. She didn't let the fact that it looked more like a nightgown and less like a dress bother her. Because Daphne was here now, and everything was perfect!

"It's a long story," the girl announced, taking her place beside Ginny with her other bridesmaids.

"Tell me later," Ginny demanded.

And then everything went on just the way it should.

-----

**REVIEW !**


	20. The Wedding: Four Gifts and One Nose

**A/N:** It's kind of long, at least for Pigwarts, but hopefully you share my view of 'the longer, the better'. :D

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**Disclaimer: **Everything you can recognize from the Harry Potter books belongs to the wonderful J. K. Rowling. And thank Merlin for Wikipedia. ;)

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 20: The Wedding – Four Gifts and One Nose**_

From Ron's point of view, everything was not going the way it should. Harry and Ginny were finally married, and that was good. But at the same time there was still a Ferret lurking around, and that was not good. Not good was also whatever Malfoy was up to now that his Crabbe-plan hadn't worked, for Ron was ready to bet his red hair and freckles that Crabbe had acted the way for no other reason than on Malfoy's orders. It had been a set up, just like with those pictures, only it hadn't done its job and ruined the wedding, and now they had an angry Ferret lurking around and scheming evil.

Ron was determined to find him, hex him, and kick him out. Of course, he had been determined to do this twice already, and on both times something had interfered with his noble intentions. But the third time is a charm, and Ron was thrice as determined now, and nothing, absolutely nothing was going to stop him this time.

Except for Ginny, who suddenly came and hugged him for no apparent reason, and then proceeded to push him into Daphne for no apparent reason. Ron was about to apologize (because Ginny thought highly of Daphne, and was presently staring at the two of them), when the air became filled with music, and Daphne's arms were thrown around his waist. And since Ginny was still glaring at him over Harry's shoulder, he had no other choice but to lay all his hopes on the fourth time. It wasn't as promising, though, for he had never heard anyone say that the fourth time is a charm. But he could always speak it to a hexed and beaten up Malfoy.

For half the dance everything was fine, Daphne didn't try to start a conversation with him, leaving him to enjoy all the wonderful mental images about the charmed fourth time, which also brought a wide smile to his face. But then, in the middle of a very nice scenario of Malfoy begging mercy and him replying with an evil laugh, he got a feeling that something was slightly off. His smile disappeared as he frowned, pondered, and then squeaked, finally becoming aware of the position of Daphne's hands.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded in a furious but hushed tone, should Ginny still be spying on them.

"I'm trying to make a cow jealous," Daphne answered in all seriousness. "Do you think it's working?"

The joy Ron felt when the dance finally ended could be only compared to the joy his was going to feel once he found Malfoy.

---

He didn't find Malfoy. Instead, Millicent found him, and then he found himself with Slytherins again, although these ones weren't groping him, for which he was very, very, very grateful.

But then Crabbe joined their little group, and Ron decided it was time to exchange his gratitude for anger, especially when he heard Blaise's words of greeting.

"That was bloody brilliant, Vincent! And the 'make babies' remark, that was fantastic. Why didn't I think of this?"

"Because you're an idiot, Blaise," Millicent replied sweetly, while Crabbe grinned, although not too enthusiastically.

"Malfoy put you up for this, didn't he?" Ron demanded hotly.

"Draco? No, not exactly."

"Haa! I knew it!" he cried triumphantly, then thought for a second. "What do you mean, not exactly?"

"He gave me some advice," Crabbe explained.

"The 'make babies' remark?" Blaise inquired, still a bit disappointed that he hadn't thought of this.

"No," Vincent slowly shook his head. "He told me that some things in life are worth fighting for, and that love is one of them."

"Malfoy told you that love is worth fighting for?" Ron asked, his tone too shocked to be doubtful yet.

"Yes."

"Like Malfoy would ever even know what love is," the doubt had finally made it, and brought disdain as well to keep it company.

Millicent and Blaise exchanged a look which was just obvious enough for Ron to catch it, but not as obvious for him to start suspecting they did it on purpose. Although that precaution was unnecessary at the moment, for he was still busy with his disdain towards Malfoy.

"What?" he questioned darkly.

"I think you should ask your friend that," Millicent smirked.

"Harry?"

"No, your other friend. The smart one."

"Hermione? Why would she know anything about…" Ron broke off his sentence, his face turning as red as a boiled lobster, and the doubt and distain asked their friend ire to join them.

"It's not about Ginny, is it?" he spoke, "Malfoy is here to do something to Hermione."

"Yes, you could say that," Millicent nodded.

Crabbe frowned in confusion.

"But Draco l—" he managed, before Blaise silenced him was a surreptitious wave of his wand.

"I'm going to kill that bastard should he even touch one hair on Hermione's head," Ron announced, looking murderous now.

"I don't think he'll limit to that," Millicent noted casually, her eyes shining with fiendish glee.

Ron opened his mouth, stayed this way for a moment, then closed it and stormed away without a word.

"Don't you think you went a bit overboard with that?" Blaise inquired. "By the look on his face, he might inflict serious damage on Draco."

"Well, I got impatient with all the waiting," she defended herself. "You really think it's that bad?"

"Yes," Blaise nodded. "Especially when Ginny and Hermione figure out it were us who riled him up like that."

"Oh, all right," she relented. "Let's go and save the day then. Or at least watch the show."

---

Blissfully oblivious of a raging-mad male redhead storming their direction (as the fates – ready for some entertainment - had finally took pity on him and let him choose the correct path), Hermione and Draco had found a quiet corner and were currently using it for dancing.

"I've got something for you," he whispered into her ear.

"Hmm… nice," she replied, breathing in his intoxicating smell as she stood in his embrace, cheek laid against his chest. "But shouldn't you be giving presents to Ginny and Harry? It's their wedding, after all."

"All right, I'll give it to Weaslette then."

"She's Potteress now," Hermione chuckled. "And no need to go that extreme. Let me take a peek at it first, and then we can decide."

Not wanting to let go of him, she instead turned around in his arms, resting her back against him, and placing her hands upon his. For a few moments they stayed like that, content, before he removed one arm from round her waist, but before she was able to protest, he had brought it back, now holding a box covered with dark green velvet.

"I wanted to give this to you the other day," he spoke as she took it from him. "But then we were rudely interrupted, and after that you got busy with your revenge."

She smiled and opened the box, staring at its content for a long moment, while he peppered her neck and shoulder with kisses.

"I don't know how to say this…" she said at last, frowning.

---

Thanks to the abnormally generous fates, Ron sighted them at that very moment, pausing for a second to take in their positions and the glower on Hermione's face, then broke into a run.

It seemed that those fates were having a good day because the next moment Ginny just happened to glance that direction, and understanding the situation in a heartbeat, she turned at once, not bothering to excuse herself from the conversation, and hurried towards the upcoming catastrophe.

Some way behind Ron, Millicent and Blaise sped up as well, although they knew they would never make it there on time, and in truth, they actually didn't want to.

---

"You don't like it," Draco stated, his tone filled with disappointment.

"… but Ginny is going to get one present less," she finished, breaking into a smile. "I love this, and I love you."

Ron stopped, as if hit by a lightning.

Ginny stopped, eyeing Ron carefully, ready to storm on should he make a move.

Millicent and Blaise stopped, their eyes sparkling with amusement at which promised to be a good show.

Under three intent gazes – because Ginny refused to take her eyes off Ron – Draco took the masterpiece of jewellery out of the box, and fastened it around her neck.

Hermione's smile widened at feeling the cool silver touch her skin, and glanced down at the diamonds and rubies sparkling merrily back at her.

"You are beautiful," he spoke quietly, yet the treacherous wind carried his words to all the spectators.

No one made a move, and the tension was almost palpable in the air, even around the lovers' embrace.

"I love you," he added.

And quite suddenly all the tension was gone, replaced instead by a bloodcurdling howl of white rage, as Ron put two and two together and got five, and before anyone else could react, the livid male redhead flew right at the happy couple.

Ginny started off as well, but then halted, realizing that her rushing into that might end up with blood on her white dress, and she was not going to let that happen.

Millicent and Blaise took a few steps closer, not wanting to miss anything.

But all they saw was a blur of colours, a few growls, rustle of cloth, and then…

CRACK!

And then…

"Owwww!"

Ron staggered away, covering his nose with both of his hands.

"You bwoke my nose! You son of a bitch!"

A very angry Hermione, judging by the way her hair was everywhere and seemed to be sizzling with electricity, stepped up to him, glared him in the eye, and stated coldly,

"That's **daughter **of a bitch!"

Then she moved back again, and shook her right hand, grimacing in pain.

"Damned, that hurt."

There was another moment of silence, which was broken by Ginny, who finally arrived at the scene, careful to stay away from Ron and his bleeding nose.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded from her brother.

"What the 'ell is Malfoy doing 'ere?" he demanded back, still angry and in pain, and therefore even more angry.

"I invited him," Ginny gritted through her teeth. "You have a problem with that?"

Ron was smart enough not to answer that question truthfully, but he wasn't smart enough to leave this whole argument.

"'e was 'urting 'Ermione!"

"No, he wasn't," Hermione snapped. "The only reason I'm in pain now is you and your stupid hard face!"

"But 'e is playing with you, 'Ermione, can't you see it?" Ron pleaded, turning towards his friend, "'E doesn't mean it. 'E simply wants to get you into bed."

"All I can see is you making a fool of yourself and ruining your sister's wedding," she snarled. "As for getting me into bed, not that it is any of your business, Ronald, he's already done that."

She gave him another glare, then, using his moment of shock, marched away angrily, dragging Draco with him.

Millicent and Blaise quickly removed themselves from her path, lest she figure out their participation in this whole thing, or simply lash out at them in her anger.

Once Ron had recovered from his shock, which took a while, the only person he saw was his sister, and by the look of it, she wasn't very happy with him.

"What part of 'Behave' did you not understand?" she hissed. "Now go clean yourself up and if you ever do something like this again, Ronald Bilius Weasley, I will never talk to you again."

And she walked away, leaving her brother wonder how his ultimate act of propriety had turned into a natural disaster.

The cruel fates were definitely laughing at him, but they weren't the only ones. Some distance from the brooding and bleeding Ron, Millicent and Blaise ended their evil moment with an exchange of amused gazes, then set off to help and heal the not-so-angry-anymore male redhead.

---

Chatting, and mingling, and sipping her champagne, Ginny tried to throw all thoughts concerning Ron out of her head. After all, women weren't supposed to keep thinking about their brothers on their wedding days. And she was sure he would be all right without her – Millicent and Blaise, once finishing their devilish laughter, would surely go and help him. Hah! Those delusional Slytherins thought she hadn't seen them there. They had better stop underestimating her and her sneakiness, although it wasn't so bad for her that they did it. This way, sooner or later they would do something really wicked, and then she could catch them in action, and make them pay. Pay her money or favours, that is – go blackmail!

Yup, it was fun to be evil.

She wasn't as angry at Ron as she had acted like, though. Not as angry as Hermione had been. She realized that with her recent history of being on the receiving end of Hermione's rage and revenge, the fact that she broke his nose shouldn't really surprise her. And actually she was more surprised at her friend's last words to her brother. Poor Ron, bleeding and confused and shocked as hell. Perhaps she should have told him before that Malfoy and a bunch of other Slytherins had been invited to the party. But she had been rather busy, and she **had** told him to behave. Though, from Ron's point of view, good behaviour probably did include hexing the hell out of Malfoy.

Still, it wasn't that bad. Ron was not going to curse anyone anymore, in fear of her never speaking to him again. Hermione's and Draco's relationship was out in the open, at least for Ron. And as to her dear brother, he was making friends with Slytherins, possibly without even noticing it. And her gown was still pure white without a single drop of blood. So all in all, things weren't that bad. Probably.

"Ginevra?" someone's voice brought her out of her thoughts, and there was only one person who called her that.

"Vinny," she smiled at him.

"I've got something for you," Crabbe said, and without further ado handed her a small glass jar filled with water.

"Thanks," she said, turning her eyes to examine the gift. "What is it?"

"It's the Giant Jellyfish you wanted," Vincent explained.

Ginny frowned and looked closer, and after a couple of moments did notice a little dark spot floating in the water. Her knowledge of jellyfish wasn't very wide, but if this was a Giant one then she couldn't really imagine a normal-sized.

"It's… small," she finally stated.

"It's just a baby. It will grow."

"Oh," Ginny replied, not sure whether to believe him or not. Perhaps the Giant Squid had also once looked like nothing more but a small dark spot, but as she hadn't been there to witness that, she didn't know for sure.

"Thanks, it's great," she said at last. "Now I only need some sessile polyps, and then the lake is complete."

"But this is a sessile polyp," Vincent spoke, pointing at the glass jar.

"You said it was a Giant Jellyfish?" Ginny frowned, confused.

"It is. But sessile polyp is a particular life stage that most jellyfish, including this one, goes through. The polyp stage is the first of the two; in this phase, the jellyfish takes the form of either a sessile stalk which catches passing food, or a similar free-floating configuration. The polyp's mouth and tentacles are located anteriorly, facing upwards. In the second stage, the jellyfish is known as a medusa. Medusae have a radially symmetric, umbrella-shaped body called a bell. The medusa's tentacles hang from the border of the bell."

Ginny closed her mouth.

"So this thing…" she spoke, once her voice had returned, "will first become a sessile polyp and then a Giant Jellyfish?"

"No, it is always a Giant Jellyfish, but for a while it is going to be a sessile polyp as well. You see, sessile polyp is not a species, but a life stage."

"But for a while at least it's going to be both a Giant Jellyfish and a sessile polyp?"

"Basically, yes."

"That's great!" Ginny exclaimed. "That's two wishes with one fish, so to speak."

"Jellyfish isn't really a fish. While they do share the same domain, Eukaryote, and kingdom, Animalia, the phylum of the jellyfish is Cnidaria, but fish belong to Chordata."

Ginny took another moment to ponder this, but since it didn't even look like it was going to make sense any time soon, she decided to change the topic before she would either say something incredibly stupid, or go crazy from wondering how in Merlin did Crabbe know all this.

"Thanks again for the gift! It's wonderful."

"I'm glad you like it," Vinny smiled at her. She couldn't help but lean over and give him another kiss on the cheek.

---

Harry Potter was nervous. Harry Potter was also married, and damned happy about it. Well, not so much for the fact that he was married, but that he was married to the most brilliant and beautiful witch in the whole wide world, who he also happened to be madly in love with.

But now he was nervous. Happy, exhilarated, elated, and nervous. Being the Harry her wife (wife! He almost melted at the word) knew and loved, he had planned something special for her, a wedding present of sorts, to show her his endless love and appreciation. And now he was nervous it was too little, or too weird, or unsuitable, or she would just not like it. Thus, Harry Potter was nervous.

It was going to be a surprise for most of the people, but he didn't care what they thought of it. All he cared was her opinion. Would his wife (oh sweet Merlin, definitely melting!) like it, would she love it, or would she simply hate it? Well, even if she disliked it, she would forgive him, right? Right?

And now that the time to reveal his present was drawing near, Harry Potter was nervous. Officially and utterly nervous. It was probably very silly of him to worry about it like this, but he was in love, and allowed to be a fool.

In addition to a fool, he was also very grateful for Charlie Weasley, one of his confidants in this matter, who at his signal went to gather together the crowd. Of course, he was the one who had to talk in front of everybody once they got here, but he still had some moments left before that. To worry and be nervous.

"Harry," someone spoke his name.

"Oh hey, Ron," he greeted his friend. "Where have you been all this time?"

"Something horrible has happened," Ron informed him, sounding serious and miserable.

"Is Ginny all right?" Harry asked at once, frightened.

"She's fine, just a bit angry with me. But Harry…" and now his tone had turned desperate, "It's about Hermione."

"Is she all right? Did something happen to her? Is she hurt?" Harry demanded hotly.

"She loves Malfoy."

Harry stared at Ron for many long moments, his jaw open, before he collected himself, and broke into a grin.

"That's no more drinks for you," he laughed, clapping Ron on the back.

"I'm not drunk!" the redhead exclaimed. "Honestly!"

"Oh, don't worry," Harry spoke good-naturedly. "I don't mind, it's a party after all. Just don't let your Mum catch you, she might not share my views."

Still chuckling, Harry walked away towards the front of the large crowd to say what he had to say, mentally thanking Ron and his drunken state for stealing away most of his nervousness.

"I'm not drunk," Ron muttered to himself. "But I wish I were!"

---

"It's a bird!" someone cried.

"It's a dragon!" someone else argued.

"It's a flying rock!" Daphne supplied.

Actually, it was a balloon. Big, and red, and golden, and the crowd awed and gasped as it descended from the sky. Once it had landed, a smiling Neville stepped out of it, winked and waved to Harry, and went to hug Ginny.

It was a balloon. Big, and red, and golden. Gryffindor colours, as everyone noticed and smiled at, or commented that green and silver would be much better. But whereas the red and golden part was clear to everyone, not many of them realized just how big it was.

Everybody was invited to take a peek inside, and their previous awes and gasps were nothing compared to the sounds they made now. The basket of the balloon was not the size of a small table, but the size of a small room. It had a bed, and a nightstand, and a fireplace, and even a bathroom! And ceiling! It was like magic!

It was magic.

And everybody loved it. And Ginny loved it as well. And she loved Harry. And she would have grabbed his hand, and dragged him to that bed, and taken off with the balloon at once, had she not have a present for him, too.

But she did have a gift for him, and the balloon with the bed had to wait. Not too long, though.

And she had thought they'd go to Greece on their honeymoon. Well, they could still go to Greece. Or anywhere else in the world, really. This balloon didn't depend on wind, she was told.

"Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed for the eleventh time, and proceeded to show him just how much she loved his gift. Well, as much of it as she could until Molly started to scream.

---

Once she was done blushing at getting a bit carried away, not that anyone save Molly seemed to mind (because it had been just a kiss, passionate, fiery, hot, but still just a kiss; all right, perhaps the minimum amount of groping as well), Ginny gave her own signal, and when Dean had finally managed to pass it on to Daphne, the Slytherin smirked at her, and ran away.

She wasn't gone long, though, and when she reappeared she was carrying a round tray covered with what looked like little pebbles of stone. Actually, they really were little pebbles of stone.

While Daphne moved around in the crowd making sure that everyone could pick one, Ginny stepped next to the colourful balloon and spoke up.

"My dearest guests! You have all seen the gift my husband – husband, what a lovely word – gave to me, and I'm sure you all love it at least half as much as I do. Or perhaps not. Because I love it a lot. But you have seen the gift from my husband – mmm, I just love saying it – to me, and now you are going to see my gift for him. Prepare yourselves, it's quite a gift."

At this point she stopped and gave a sneaky smirk, only not too sneaky because she didn't want to scare anybody away. While Harry's gift could have been delivered as well in private, hers would do much better with an audience. She also wanted it to be mentioned in tomorrow's Daily Prophet, meaning that Colin and Parvati had to come along. Although she really shouldn't have worried about that – the curiosity of those two could kill a herd of hippogriffs.

"Ready to see it, people?" she asked, and was answered by a chorus of 'yes'es.

Again she nodded at Daphne, who scooped up two pebbles from the tray, threw one of them at Ginny, and placed the second on the open palm of her left hand.

Drawing her wand, she touched its tip to the stone, and with one last smirk at Ginny, she activated her portkey and all the others as well.

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**Note #2: **I hope you liked it. One more chapter to come! And then the next part. :) **REVIEW!**


	21. The Wedding: Game of the Big Cats

**Author's Note: **_Yellow roses, chocolate hearts, little pink piggies, flying cows, and lots of thanks to all my wonderful readers and even more wonderful reviewers! May Sun and hedgehogs always smile at you. :)_

This is the final chapter of the second part of my Pigwarts trilogy. So don't get too sad, there will be part three as well. :)

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**The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos**

_**Chapter 21: The Wedding – Game of the Big Cats**_

The castle of Pigwarts stood bold and proud before the many eyes looking up to it. Perhaps it was more of a manor than a castle, just like the body of water near it was more of a pond than a lake, but Ginny knew that this was a castle, and that was a lake, no matter what some bitter people might say.

But even the bitter ones couldn't deny that it was still _The Pigwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry _for it said so in large engraved letters above the main portal. It didn't include the school motto, Ginny was disappointed to find, but the purple flag underlining those words was still a nice touch, so perhaps she could overlook the missing slogan, at least for now.

People in the back rows started to whisper. People in the front rows got a better view, and were still too shocked to say anything. But Colin's camera was flashing, and she was ready to bet anything (since she had peeked over her shoulder and made sure she would win that bet) that Parvati's quill was scribbling furiously at the moment as well.

She contemplated whether she should say anything, or give them time to adjust and find their vocal cords. But before she managed to make a decision, someone did it for her.

"What the bloody hell is this?"

Ginny had expected that question, but she had expected it from Malfoy, not from her brother-dear.

"Since the destruction of Hogwarts, Wizarding Britain has been without a proper school. But we need one, and this is the solution. It's a brand new school for young witches and wizards, and yet it continues many traditions of its predecessor, the ancient and world-famous Hogwarts. It's even named after it, as you can see."

"Ginevra Molly Potter, did you found this school all by yourself?"

"No, of course not," Ginny replied, taking in the dangerous posture of her mother, wondering whether this would result in another yelling session. "Daphne did half of it."

The Slytherin girl hopped onto Dean at that, and waved to all those who had turned their shocked, smirking, or simply confused faces towards her.

"My little girl founded a school," Molly declared, and promptly burst into tears, turning towards her husband, who was quick to place his arms around her and pat her gently on the back. Once she had calmed down a bit, it was Arthur Weasley who furrowed his brow at the castle before him.

"Are my eyes deceiving me, or does this… building look awfully like Malfoy Manor?"

"This **castle**," Ginny replied with appropriate emphasis, "was indeed formerly know as Malfoy Manor, but its owner was generous enough to donate it for such a noble cause."

For some people, it seemed, this was even more shocking, but the furious cursing and objection Ginny had expected from the generous owner didn't come.

She glanced at Daphne, thinking that perhaps they had left Malfoy behind, but the shrug she received in reply told very clearly that he had been given a pebble, and the silence could be explained by either him dropping the tiny stone before she had activated it, or him dropping to the ground in dead faint after she had activated it.

Ginny was about to order her friend, whose perch upon Dean gave her a better view, to look around in the crowd for any sight of Malfoy, either standing and looking furious or lying and looking unconscious, when Parvati finally managed to make her way through the people, and was now standing in front of her, demanding attention, while Colin was still furiously snapping photos a few steps behind her.

The young but promising reporter fired away a couple of questions, and Ginny gave her a couple of answers, before redirecting them to Daphne so that she could go and see what her darling husband thought of his gift.

She told so much to Parvati as well, and the girl allowed herself one moment of hesitation, before realizing that Harry Potter plus Pigwarts was much better than only Pigwarts, and rushed after Ginny to get coverage of both Harry's first words and the romantic moment that was certain to follow.

Harry was still standing with his mouth open. He had given his wife a balloon. She had given him a school. Perhaps he could still buy her an island or something? Not that they were having some competition of gifts here, for they weren't, but Harry had been clearly not prepared for this.

"So," Ginny had reached his side. "Do you like it?"

It did take him rather many rather long moments before he managed to utter his answer, but Ginny, Parvati, Colin, and the rest of the crowd were all waiting patiently.

"It's bloody brilliant."

This quote of the famous Harry Potter made not only into the Daily Prophet, but years later it was even written down in the history books, and many future Professors included the question of 'What were Harry Potter's first words about our school?' in most of their tests.

---

Once all the guests had got their chance to "ooh" and "aah", and Daphne had grown more than annoyed at the endless string of questions Parvati was sending her way, Ginny spoke up for the wider public once again.

She informed everybody of the official opening which was going to take place sometime during the summer, once she was back from her honeymoon, then asked them to pick up their pebbles again for a ride home.

Daphne drew her wand quite dramatically while Ginny whispered something to Harry, only instead of placing her master portkey onto her palm again, she threw it into the air, swished with her wand, and fired the spell.

And then all the people were gone, save for the two of them and Dean. Ginny was about to sigh in relief and send Daphne a 'we did it!' glance, when she suddenly became aware that they weren't quite as alone as she had thought.

The crowd had been a good thing. The crowd had been a safety net. Surely Malfoy wouldn't do something overly nasty in front of a bunch of people plus a reporter from Daily Prophet. But now the crowd was gone. Malfoy, however, was here, and rather conscious, judging by the fact that he was standing and glaring at them. The only thing that kept Ginny from Disapparating (besides not having her wand, that is), was the presence of Hermione, possibly the only person in the whole wide world capable of calming down an angry Malfoy. Ginny dearly hoped she was going to use that ability of hers.

"Hey!" Daphne called, hopping down from Dean and waving, for some reason believing that being friendly and carefree would make their adversary friendly as well. Ginny couldn't but strongly disagree.

"I'm going to ask you a question," Draco announced once the silence and tension had reached their climax, or he had simply got bored of the waiting. "Listen carefully, because your lives may very well depend on your answer."

Killed by her friend's boyfriend on the day of her wedding didn't seem a way Ginny wanted to go. In fact, the only way she was willing to go was up into the sky with Harry in that balloon. She glanced at Hermione, but no help seemed to be coming from that direction because her dear friend and bridesmaid was currently busy with looking upwards and whistling. Well, at least she wasn't smirking. Then again, neither was Malfoy. He was just gracing them with a very angry stare.

"We're listening," Ginny swallowed, recalling her words to Harry about staying here for a couple of moments longer, and wondering when he would be coming to look for her. Not soon enough, that was sure.

After another dramatic pause, during which the redhead managed to contemplate both running away and wandless Apparition, Malfoy finally voiced The Question.

"Where is my dragon statue?"

Ginny blinked. It didn't help. Damn.

"Pardon?"

"My dragon statue," Malfoy repeated, sounding dangerously casual, "The deal included a dragon statue. I clearly remember if not making it then at least reading about making it."

"I've got somebody working on it," Ginny replied automatically, "it will be here by the time of the official opening."

"It better be," Malfoy nodded, before turning and proceeding to walk away with his girlfriend, who had stopped the whistling now.

"Don't," Daphne warned, but Ginny couldn't help it. Perhaps her curiosity couldn't have killed a herd of hippogriffs, but it surely would have managed to do away with the larger half of it.

"Wait," the redhead called out, watching Malfoy and Hermione stop and turn back, wondering whether she had just signed her own death warrant. "You mean you don't mind us founding a school into your home?"

Draco took a moment to ponder, but it was clear he wasn't thinking about his answer, but how to word it. He even glanced at Hermione, and Ginny noticed the small nod her friend gave.

"If I had minded, I would have stopped you before, wouldn't I?" he spoke.

"Before what?" Ginny frowned. "Before the interview I gave to the Prophet?"

"No. Before today."

"But you didn't know of this before today!" Ginny exclaimed, feeling almost as confused as Ron had previously been.

Her frown only deepened as Hermione threw back her head and laughed, and she got this weird sensation that whatever was to come, Malfoy's anger would have been better. Which made it even weirder because an angry Malfoy wasn't really something she would wish for in any circumstance.

"Did you really think you could found a school in the Manor without my knowledge of it?"

"Yes!" both Ginny and Daphne declared vigorously.

"Well, you are wrong," he smirked.

"How?" Ginny demanded, while Daphne voiced the question of "When?"

"Well," Hermione answered this time, drawling out the word with a sly smile on her lips, "remember that time during Draco's birthday when you broke into his study and did some fine reading?"

Ginny remembered. She also remembered that Malfoy's birthday party happened **before** their founding of Pigwarts. But what she didn't remember was seeing Hermione at that party.

"You weren't at the party," she accused. "There is no way you could know of this."

Thinking about it, there was **no** way they could know about this. Except for… she glanced at Daphne. No, she was not a cow, so no friend-stabbing-friend-in-the-back situation.

"I wasn't at the party," Hermione admitted. "But I was in the Manor."

Ginny opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

"That makes no sense whatsoever," she frowned.

"It makes perfect sense," her friend declared. "The party was dead boring, at least before you tried to brighten it up a bit and drown half the Ministry. But I couldn't miss my boyfriend's birthday, now could I?"

"No, no, no, no, no," Ginny shook her head, feeling like she was a Professor explaining something to a student very intent on not understanding. "He wasn't your boyfriend back then. It was us who got the two of you together – I got you drunk, Daphne chained Malfoy and made the cookies. That's how you got together."

"Not quite," Hermione just had to argue. "I simply couldn't forget the night in the ruins of Hogwarts, so I came here to talk with Draco, and the rest is history."

"No!" Ginny stated fiercely, unwilling to give up so easily. "No, I got you drunk, Daphne put aphrodisiac into the cookies, and that's how you got together."

"This isn't going anywhere," Hermione stated the very obvious. "How about you got me intoxicated with alcohol and aphrodisiac, and I shagged Draco for the first time?"

"Well, you certainly did that," the redhead noted absently. "Wait! The pictures! I bet you didn't know we took those. Haa!"

"True. I didn't know about them. At least not before Draco told me."

"But you ran away! You broke his heart! And you told me to take revenge on Malfoy after he published those photos of me and Crabbe!"

What the hell had happened to the world during the last ten minutes? Nothing made sense anymore!

"I panicked, okay?" Hermione seemed irritated for the first time during their conversation. "It just came so sudden, and in a dungeon, and I thought that perhaps… well, I panicked!"

"You panicked?" Ginny raised a brow.

"You poisoned me with aphrodisiac, spied on me in a rather **private** moment, and took pictures?" she countered.

"You panicked. Very reasonable thing to do," the redhead said quickly. "I completely understand."

"Good," Hermione narrowed her eyes, but said no more, looking like she had done her talking, something Ginny didn't like one bit because not all of her questions had been answered.

"But she came back," Draco spoke, bending his head to give his girlfriend an encouraging kiss.

"Yes, I came back," Hermione agreed. "And we had a talk, and he mentioned the photos, and I got an idea."

"A brilliant idea, love."

"It was pretty ingenious, even if I say so myself," she smirked. "Anyway, we wanted to come out in the open with our relationship, but were a bit reluctant to receive all the public and media attention that would have surely come with such shocking news. So when Draco told me of those pictures you had taken, I had a thought. Then there were also those photos of you and Crabbe that he had bought from Adrian Pucey, not to publish them or blackmail you like you thought, but to keep Adrian from doing that. He might as well have destroyed them, but luckily for us, he didn't. So I came up with an article that wasn't too poisonous and had it printed with those photos, knowing that you would go through with your threat and publish the ones you had of us, but also knowing you wouldn't write anything dreadful about it because you didn't want me to get into too much trouble.

"And it worked like a charm. Some people were still too shocked about you and Crabbe to turn too much attention to us, some managed to accept it by then, some believed it was all rubbish, some thought it perfectly normal after the first article. Which meant we didn't have to hide ourselves in the Manor any longer, but could go out on dinner and dates. Since it had all been in the Prophet, people didn't bother or question us that much, as seeing us together was the only proof they needed. And most of the looks thrown our way were encouraging and approving."

"You used us?" Daphne voiced the question while Ginny was busy with imitating a fish.

"From the way I see it, it was good for everybody," Hermione winked. "We got an open relationship, you got to sneak around and think yourselves extremely clever, and the wizarding world got itself a new school. Everybody profited."

Ginny closed her mouth with a snap.

"You… you… you oversneaked us!"

"Guilty as charged," Malfoy gave his trademark smirk.

"I'll set Harry upon you!" the redhead threatened. "Yes, that's right. He doesn't know about you two yet."

"Yes, you can do that," Hermione nodded, not one bit scared. "If you want him to spend your entire honeymoon either yelling at us, or ranting about it to you."

"Aaarrrgh!" Ginny cried, stomping her foot violently on the ground. "You will pay for this. One day when you least expect it, we will show you just how sneaky we can be!"

"We'll be looking forward to it," Malfoy promised.

"We'll go back to the party now," Hermione spoke. "Nice job with the school. I especially enjoyed the Malfoy common room. Those ducks were superb. You know, he almost fainted when he saw them."

"I did not!" Malfoy protested fiercely, the blush on his cheeks not working in his favour. "It were those polka dots that made me dizzy."

_It were the ducks_, Hermione mouthed, before she turned around and ran after her boyfriend, her peals of laughter ringing in the air.

"They oversneaked us," Ginny repeated, sounding miserable now.

"Don't worry," Daphne patted her on the back. "We will get back on them."

"Still. They have no right to be sneakier than us. We worked really hard for this, but all they did was sit, and watch, and laugh at us. And they used us."

"But that **is **the higher order of sneakiness," the Slytherin noted. "Do nothing, get all that you want, and let others amuse you."

"They used us," Ginny restated stubbornly, then pondered about it. "Shmoly Salazar, they **are** sneakier than us!"

"We are still sneakier than most of the world. And we can improve," Daphne suggested.

"And improve we will," she promised. "I'll go on my honeymoon and be very sneaky with Harry, you stay here and be sneaky with everybody else. And once I'm back, we'll come up with the most ingenious and sneaky plan the universe has ever witnessed. And then they'll see. Oversneak us! Haa!"

---

"It looks nice," the redhead complimented, once they had conjured themselves a garden bench to rest upon and admire their handiwork.

"Thanks. I'll add the motto later."

"How about changing it to 'Never play with the big cats – they're sneakier than thou'?" Ginny offered.

"'Be evil. It's the way of having more fun'?"

"'Take revenge, and eat cookies'?"

"'Lawn carts don't stand a chance against a Giant'?"

"'Unless they're sneaky'," Ginny added. "I like that."

"Me too."

"And I like that purple flag. It's a nice touch."

"Me too," Daphne agreed. "That's my bathrobe, by the way."

Ginny looked at her, then back at the pretty flag which was actually a pretty bathrobe, as it came out.

"So that's why you're wearing a nightdress," she commented after a while.

"It's not too bad. You should be grateful I'm not sleeping nude."

"I am," the redhead said with a shudder, the image of a slightly different cowgirl flashing through her mind, "believe me, I am. Though I'd love to see those headlines in the Prophet."

"Well, I can always appear naked to someone else's wedding," Daphne offered.

"You could go naked to Hermione's and Malfoy's wedding!" Ginny exclaimed. "That would show them!"

"Yes, that would definitely _show _them. As to showing, shouldn't we go back to the party and show your husband that you are still alive?"

"I suppose," spoke Mrs. Harry Potter, yet didn't make a move.

"Where's Dean?"

"By the lake somewhere," Ginny supplied. "He was looking rather miserable."

"He needs milking? Again?"

"No, I think it's your plan to make him jealous of Ron working only too well."

"How did you know of that?" Daphne frowned.

"Because I'm sneaky!" Ginny declaimed proudly, then added, "and because you told me."

"Oh! But that was because he was staring at Parvati."

"I think she was trying to interview him."

"Oh… Really?"

"Yes," Ginny nodded, sounding wise. "He's a famous Quidditch star after all. Or at least he was, I don't think that cows are allowed to play it."

"I'll go talk to him."

---

When Daphne came back, Ginny was entertaining herself with a brand new school song for their brand new school.

"One little, two little, three little piggies,  
Four little, five little, six little piggies,  
Seven little, eight little, nine little piggies,  
Ten piggies, oh! I'm so sneaky!"

It wasn't much of a song, she had to admit, but it did make her feel better.

"So, what's the verdict?" she inquired.

"I am never going to drink milk again. Ever."

"Why not? I thought you'd like it?" Ginny smirked, and turned to smirk at Daphne, but finding only a blushing cow. And there was something wrong with the cow.

He wasn't a cow anymore.

"Oh, you got rid of the curse," she remarked. "How?"

"I kissed him," Daphne winked, coming to stand beside her ex-cow.

"You mean you didn't do it before?" Ginny frowned.

"No, why?"

"Erm, you mean I didn't tell you that you have to kiss him in addition to the charm?" the redhead inquired, trying to remember how to look innocent. She remembered how to look sneaky, but that wasn't probably the same.

"I think that slipped your mind."

"Oops!" Ginny gave a sheepish smile.

"No worries," Daphne waved the matter away. "We had fun, didn't we?"

Dean the Human glared at Ginny, but once he turned towards the Slytherin girl, his look softened. Considerably.

"Yes, I think we did."

"We all did," Ginny remarked, then shuddered at the nostalgia in her voice. Nostalgia was for old people, for Merlin's snake! Sake. Whatever.

"Life is not going to be boring from now on, just because you got married," Daphne admonished.

"Nothing can be boring with you in it," Dean announced, giving Daphne a rather smitten glance.

"We still have a school to run," the girl reminded.

"We still have to prove our ultimate sneakiness," Ginny agreed.

"We still have to get my bathrobe back," the Slytherin sighed. "What? I really like that bathrobe. Purest Indian silk. And it was a gift."

Dean narrowed his eyes.

"From my mother."

Dean unnarrowed his eyes in relief.

"And then there's the statue," the redhead added.

"And the motto."

"And the official opening."

"And the students."

"And our work is never done."

"And never-ending is our fun."

"And I've got a balloon to catch," Ginny winked.

"Let's go then," Daphne said, drawing her wand.

Dean put an arm around her waist, and Ginny threw hers round the girl's shoulders, for the portkeys had done their job and the Slytherin was the only one with a wand.

"Bye-bye, Piggy," she waved at the castle. "See you soon!"

**The End (Of Part Two)**

-----

**A/N: **Pigwarts is founded and unofficially opened, Ginny and Daphne got oversneaked and are planning their revanche, Dean is a cow no longer, and I thank you all again for accompanying me on the path that has brought us this far. Hope to see you all soon at the third part of the Pigwarts Trilogy. :D Until then, all the best!

Oh, almost forgot... **REVIEW **;)


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